Games
by shinealightonme
Summary: The mercenary thought he was through with these crazy games.  Of course, he didn't count on a meddling witch, a mysterious assignment, a depressed roommate, and a handful of powerhungry nobles.  AU
1. Watch Your Mouth

The door of the bar "Clover" swung open and shut, disturbing the smoky air inside. The green-eyed man who entered seemed unconcerned by the choking atmosphere or the deafening noise of conversation, laughter, and bad music. In fact, he smiled as he recognized a few friends and former comrades. He headed straight toward a small table in the back corner of the large barroom, until an unexpected figure caught his eye. He stopped suddenly, nearly causing a waiter behind him to drop his heavy tray, and double checked. As far as he knew, there was only one person in Nihon who could glare so passionately at his drink – not to mention those distinctive red eyes. It was definitely him. The swordsman changed course.

"Kurogane-san!" he cried out, slapping the tall mercenary on the back. "I haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to?"

Kurogane turned just enough to identify the person who had extended a warm greeting to him. "Oi. It's you, Ryu."

"Yeah!" he smiled broadly, his enthusiasm not damped by the other man's cold reply. "Here, let me buy you a drink."

The dark man stopped himself from rolling his eyes with heroic effort. "Don't bother."

"Come on, Kurogane-san! It's the least I can do for the man who saved my life. I'm grateful, that's all."

"Fine." Kurogane turned his attention back to his drink. "Be grateful somewhere else."

Ryu just laughed. "Still the same old Kurogane, I see. Bartender!" he yelled to attract the attention of the beautiful woman serving customers at the other end of the bar. When she came over, he ordered a drink for himself, and one for "my gloomy friend here." Said gloomy friend's scoff made Ryu look sideways at the man after he sat down, and for the first time he noticed who was sitting on Kurogane's other side.

"Syaoran-kun! This is turning into quite a day. How have you been?"

The teen looked at his friend through slightly unfocused brown eyes. "Ryu-kun, is that really you?" When Ryu nodded, Syaoran laughed. "I haven't see you in _ages_. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, found some work as a bodyguard out in Celes. You know how those merchants are; always convinced someone's coming after them. Cushy job, really; the only enemy I had to deal with the whole time was the crazy man's paranoia." The two young men shared a laugh. "He was convinced that he was cursed. Thought that these two brothers who worked for him were trying to kill him. Kept saying 'those twins, they're evil.'"

Syaoran shook his head. "I don't understand rich people. They just don't act like normal people."

"Well of course," Ryu replied, taking his drink from the lovely bartender. "That's how they get rich."

"Anything else I can get you, Ryu?" the bartender asked.

Ryu smiled broadly. "I've been in town five minutes, Caldina-san, and you are already tempting me to rack up my bill here?"

Caldina winked. "You've caught me. Does that mean your not buying anything else?"

"Nope, just means I won't leave a big tip."

"You never leave a big tip." The bartender waved a hand to indicate the room around her. "None of you mercenaries do. I should have opened up a classy restaurant uptown, near the palace."

"You'd be bored in a classy restaurant, and I'd have no one to get a drink for my friend Syaoran over here."

Syaoran tried to protest, "Really, Ryu-kun, that isn't necessary – " but his friend waved him off.

"Don't worry about it Syaoran-kun. That Celes gig paid well, and I'm feeling generous."

Syaoran surrendered. "If the job paid so well, what are you doing back in Nihon?"

Ryu sighed. "I got bored, for one thing. It sounds nice, an easy job, little danger, but it's dull."

Syaoran leaned forward a bit more, trying to see better around Kurogane, and nearly fell off his stool. He rested his head on his arms.

Kurogane, tired of being talked around, asked, "So it had nothing to do with how _cold _those Celes winters are?"

Ryu ran a hand through his long hair. "That too. I never would have lasted until the spring. If there's one thing you can say for Nihon, you're never in danger of freezing to death when you wake up in the night to use the bathroom."

"You should tell the king that; it could be a slogan for tourism," Kurogane said. Syaoran giggled, and the tall man looked at him carefully.

"Ha! You must be in a good mood, Kurogane-san, if you're joking around. I didn't even think you knew what a joke was," Ryu teased. "You got a good job lined up or something?"

"Something like that," Kurogane growled.

Ryu didn't take the hint. "So what have you been up to lately? I haven't seen you since, gosh, the assassination fiasco. You've been keeping busy?"

Caldina, eavesdropping while pretending to clean the counter, jumped into the conversation. "You could say that," she said in the fast and excited tone of an accomplished gossiper. "In fact, Ku-"

Kurogane slammed his drink on the counter. "You mind your own business, woman. He didn't ask you for your opinions."

Caldina shrugged, looking innocent. "Everything that goes on in here is my business. The health, wealth, and happiness of my customers are very important to me. And anyway, if he didn't hear it from me, someone else would tell him."

Ryu perked up. This sounded promising. "Tell me what?"

"Don't listen to shameless women," Kurogane replied bitterly.

Caldina ignored him and looked into the excited green eyes that bore into her. "That Kurogane-san isn't a mercenary anymore."

"What?" Ryu shouted. It drew questioning glances from a few of the closest people but generally went unnoticed under the din.

"That isn't exactly true," Kurogane started, but wasn't able to finish.

"Kurogane-san is now a servant to the Duchess of Edo. Tomoyo-sama tamed the Black Wolf and keeps him as a pet."

Kurogane glared daggers at the bartender. She wasn't scared – no one would attack _her_, not when half the mercenaries and soldiers in Nihon owed her favors – but she did start to regret what she'd said. It was what everyone in town was saying, but the difference between her and everyone else was that _she_ had been foolish enough to say it in front of the Black Wolf himself. She bit her tongue and smiled and the men before moving off to help some other customers.

"Is that true?" Ryu asked urgently.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm no one's _PET_," Kurogane snarled venomously.

To his surprise, Ryu burst out laughing. "Of course you aren't," he said when he had caught his breath. "How could you ever be someone's – someone's – pet? I can't even imagine such a thing. No, I wanted to know if it was true about you taking on a single employer, leaving the whole 'mercenary' scene behind."

Kurogane studied him carefully. The man to his left was loud, obnoxious, and spoke without thinking, but he was a good man. Kurogane never would have bothered to save his life if he weren't. He decided that Ryu did not mean to offend him, so he answered civilly, "Yes."

The green-eyed man nodded, as though he knew what Kurogane had been thinking. "Well then, let's have another drink to celebrate."

The ex-mercenary raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"If _you're_ not in the business anymore, that's a lot less competition for me!" Ryu said happily, raising his hand to call Caldina over and winking at her to show her things were alright.

Kurogane smiled. It was only a small smile, and it lasted for no time at all, but it was more than Ryu had ever seen from the tall man. "Another time," he promised. "I need to see the kid home. One more drink and he'll be telling his story about the beautiful mystery woman he fell in love with at first sight."

Ryu mockingly protested, "I love that story! Let's get Syaoran-kun even drunker."

Kurogane shook his head. "The boy's gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow as it is, and _I_ have to deal with him."

"Alright, you wet blanket." Ryu's tone became serious. "Is he working for the Duchess, too?"

Kurogane shook his head. "No, he's just staying with me for awhile." He said this as though it were the end of the conversation, and so Ryu did not say anything more.

"Good night, Kurogane-san," he said cheerfully. "See you around!"

"See you," the dark man replied with a nod, before leaving the bar with Syaoran leaning on him for support.

"Chasing out my customers, Ryu-kun?" Caldina teased.

"I was trying to get them to stay," he replied absently. "It was probably your horrible music that drove them away."

Caldina took his comment seriously. "I know. I really need to find some decent musicians."

Ryu listened for a few seconds and shuddered. "I'd get to work on that right now, if I were you." He paused for a second to try to phrase his question properly. "Caldina-san, Kurogane-san said that Syaoran-kun was staying with him for a while, but they aren't working together. Do you know what that's about?"

Caldina looked sad as she picked up a glass. Wiping it slowly with a rag, she spoke with none of the joy she usually reserved for gossip. "Syaoran-kun's parents died last year."

Ryu's mouth dropped. "That's horrible!"

"Yeah," she agreed so softly that the mercenary had to lean far forward to hear her. "They had tuberculosis. You know how poor that family was. They couldn't afford any medicine, not even any painkillers. And after...after...Syaoran-kun was all alone. He wasn't making enough money to pay the rent. It's hard for a minor to get work in this business, and things have been so slow lately. So Kurogane-san took him in."

Ryu's already rampant hero worship reached a new high. "That was nice of him."

Caldina nodded. "Some of the others pitched in – especially the ones who remembered Syaoran-kun from the whole assassination mess. They bought food and things for him and his parents. When they got too sick to work, Chun'yan helped take care of them." The bartender sighed. "It was nice of them, but it didn't really help much in the long run."

"But that's outrageous," Ryu protested. "That's all the help he got, just some mercenary friends of his pitching in?"

"Who else is there?" Caldina asked. "They were his only family."

"What about the government? Damnit, isn't this the sort of thing the relief services are for?" Ryu clenched his hands into fists. "They're supposed to help the poor with medicine and housing, at least, but there just a bunch of selfish, corrupt – "

"Shut up," the bartender hissed quietly. The mercenary looked up from the counter and met her eyes. It was like being electrocuted, and he mentally cursed his loose tongue. "That," Caldina continued in calm, measured tones, "is the sort of thing that some people might mistake for treason. You need to be careful what you say around here. There's always the chance someone will _misinterpret_ what you're saying."

"Yes, I think you're right," he said just as carefully. "It's so noisy in here, people might hear anything at all."

Caldina smiled again, but this time it was rather strained. "And as one friend to another, Ryu, I'd suggest you find some way of expressing your loyalty to the state. Wouldn't want anyone to get funny ideas about you."

"You know me, Caldina-san, I love our government," Ryu said with a grin that was just as phony.

Caldina raised the empty glass in a mock toast and tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "God bless King Ryanban."

-

Author's Note: Not really sure what I'm playing at here. I really SHOULD finish Into the Woods before I mess around with any other stories – I've already put a few ideas on hold for that very reason – but this idea seems so fun in my head and I just wanted to see how it looks on paper. I think I'll try writing shorter chapters and see if that helps me update faster. I also need to see if I can keep two stories going at the same time – I know it's possible, other people do it all the time, but then again, Shine isn't other people.

If Ryu and Caldina were OOC, it's because I don't know much about them, even what CLAMP series they are originally from (assuming they weren't created for Tsubasa) so I've had to go with the impression I have of them from their smallish roles in the series.

Please, Review/comments/constructive criticism are all welcome. I'm very excited about this story and I want to know if you are, too. Or if you can think of some way of improving it. Or if you think anything about it at all D


	2. Unwanted Visitors

Disclaimer: Tsubasa and its characters are not mine.

-

Syaoran's senses were dulled by alcohol, and he had walked a good 20 feet down Outo Avenue before he noticed that Kurogane wasn't walking with him. "Kuro...gane...san?" he asked uncertainly, stumbling as he turned around. Bleary eyes met red eyes, and Kurogane frowned.

"Where are you going?" he asked gruffly.

Syaoran had to ponder this question for several moments – his thoughts weren't cooperating very well. "Home," he replied succinctly.

Kurogane could hardly stand to look at the boy when he was in this state. In the months that Syaoran had been staying with him, he had never once referred to the small apartment as 'home.' He still reserved that title for a place that had been on Outo Avenue on the other side of town. It wasn't there anymore. It wasn't anywhere.

"Kid," Kurogane sighed. What was he supposed to say? "You're drunk. Let's go back to the apartment."

Syaoran stumbled back to his roommate and they turned left down Edonis Boulevard. The drunken teen stumbled every so often, and while Kurogane watched him carefully the whole time, he did not offer any assistance.

He wanted to help the kid walk, or just pick him up and carry him if that was too difficult, but he knew he couldn't. Syaoran would just turn him down if he tried to. The boy didn't want people to help him too much. He stayed with Kurogane, true, but he insisted on sharing the housework and the bills.

It made Kurogane proud of the kid. Independence and strength were important traits, ones the kid needed to survive in Nihon. It also made him annoyed at how stubborn the kid could be.

By the time they reached the apartment, Syaoran was falling asleep on his feet. All he could think of was how badly he wanted to lie down and be blissfully unconscious for a few hours. He leaned on the wall while Kurogane fished for his key and tried to unlock the stubborn old bolt on the door.

"Hey Kurogane-san," Syaoran said with his eyes closed.

"Hm?" The dark-haired man was distracted from his infuriating task by the first words the kid had spoken since turning down the wrong street.

"Thanks," the boy said, sliding down the wall a few inches as his knees sagged.

"Don't mention it."

"No, I mean it," the boy insisted. "You take me in, and share your place with me, and teach me how to be a better fighter, and you – " His throat tightened, and Kurogane spared him the trouble of trying to continue.

"I said don't mention it." The man fixed his attention on the door again, getting it to open with a violent shove. The room it revealed was small and rundown, but it was clean and, most importantly for Syaoran, it had a very comfortable couch against one wall. The boy walked to it and sat down heavily.

"Oi. Brush your teeth and change your clothes before you go to sleep."

"Right," Syaoran groaned. "I don't think I can stand up."

"Let me help!" a syrupy sweet voice chirped. Kurogane's soul rebelled at the sound.

"Mokona-kun, what are you doing in here?" he growled at his obnoxious, androgynous neighbor.

The person who had intruded into his home shrugged his shoulders, sending a ripple through his long white hair.

"Your door was open," he said, as though that made everything alright.

"What, and you took that as an invitation?"

"Of course, Kuro-woof!" Mokona said happily, making Kurogane's blood boil. Sensing the angry tirade that was about to be directed at him, the short man (woman? Kurogane still wasn't sure, even after all the time they had been neighbors) raised a hand in what was meant to be a calming gesture. "Now, I'll just help Syaoran, alright?"

"Fine. Go." Kurogane muttered, defeated. He wouldn't let his annoyance get the better of him – it always made him look like a fool, especially around Mokona. The short man was good at dealing with Syaoran, even when Kurogane was worn out and confused and had no idea what to do with the boy.

Besides, he had something more important to deal with than his neighbor's lack of respect for privacy and common decency. Walking to the sink across from the couch and pouring himself a glass of water, Kurogane said neutrally, "And what are you doing here?"

"He's got a point, you know," a deep female voice said from behind him. Turning to face the room again, he saw her stretching herself out on the couch. "If you leave your door open, you _have _to expect visitors to stop by."

"Witch," Kurogane barked. "You'd stop by whether or not I locked my door. Whether or not I even _had_ a door. You'd do it just to piss me off."

The witched waved a hand dismissively, leaving a trail of smoke from her ever present cigarette. "True."

"So why are you here this time?"

"Dear boy," the witch said, knowing it would piss him off, "You sound like you aren't happy to see me."

"I'm not."

"Well, that won't do. You really should be more cheerful, Kurogane. Find yourself a nice girlfriend – or boyfriend, whichever you prefer, I don't judge – and have some fun. You'd be surprised; it might even help you feel like a person again."

"I'm not interested in your opinions, bitch."

"My goodness, that was uncalled for. I hope you don't treat my dear friend with such discourtesy."

The man snorted. "I've only ever met your 'dear friend' once, for a minute, and it's not in my best interests to insult the person who's paying me."

"Oh?" The witch stood slowly. It was quite an involved process for her. She stood like a cat, stretching luxuriously and drawing herself up until she seemed taller than she was. She walked toward Kurogane, who thought of backing away but didn't want her to think she'd won something. She smirked smugly, as though she thought so anyway. "If that's the case," she whispered into his ear, one hand tracing his jawline, "Why do you treat me this way?"

"You aren't paying me anything, witch," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Yet," she replied casually, turning his head so he faced her. She smiled, looking more like a cat than ever. A cat that had just spotted a mouse.

"What are you playing at now?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Take care of Syaoran-kun for me, will you? He is _such_ a good boy." With that, the witch was gone and the room felt a bit larger than before.

Kurogane rubbed his temples, cursing Yuko and her magic. "Everything is a puzzle with that damn woman," he complained to himself. "Maybe three or four puzzles at the same time."

In the few years he's known her, she'd never failed to give me a headache. She was without a doubt the most exasperating woman he'd ever met. He really should have known better than to get involved with her latest crazy scheme, but the money had been tempting and the mercenary business was slowly lately, with the changes in the army. Steady employment at a decent hourly rate was too good an offer to pass up when he had another person to look after.

Still...

He should have at least found out more about the job before he agreed. He'd asked Yuko what she was up to, why she was hiring for the Duchess of Edo (and why she thought _he_ was right for the role), but she hadn't told him. He should have found a way to force her, but her seriously doubted there was a way to force a witch to part with information she wanted to keep secret. So he'd become a servant for some noble and had apparently given Yuko permission to invade his privacy every chance she got.

Hell. He was too drunk and too tired to deal with this now. Drinking the rest of the water, he shooed Mokona out of the apartment, steered Syaoran to the couch, and fell into his bed in the small bedroom. He slept deeply and did not dream.

-

AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun messing around with the idea of Mokona as a human, so you can expect to see more of him in the not-to-distant future. It _is_ weird writing Mokona without Fai, though. Fai, unfortunately, won't show his beautiful face in this story for at least a few more chapters. Next chapter we meet the duchess and see Nihon from a noble's point of view. Reviews/comments/etc. are most welcome!


	3. The Duchess

Disclaimer: Still don't own Tsubasa.

-

Music drifted out of the ballroom and into the courtyard. Tomoyo listened appreciatively as she wandered down the path and further into the garden. This was how music should be, something enjoyed for its own sake, not forced on a fidgeting audience feigning attention in a crowded hall or exploited for entertainment at parties.

Tomoyo had grown tired of the party, but the garden around her soothed her worn-out nerves and distracted her from thinking about the other nobles, palace politics, and other horrible things in her life. She stopped to admire some flowers, their color indistinguishable in the moonlight but their beauty plain as day. 

"What do you see, Your Grace?" 

The question was simple, but it reminded her too much of another conversation; the same question but a much less pleasant meaning.

_  
"Tell me what you see, duchess."  
_

Tomoyo promptly banished the thought from her mind. This was not the time or the place for that. She turned to face the man who had asked her, and he spoke again.

"It seems something has caught your eye."

"Yes. These lilacs are lovely."

"I've always thought so. They are particular favorites of mine." The man stepped closer to her and out of the shadows so that she could see his face. Not that it was necessary, really. No one else had such a melodious tenor voice as Ashura.

"I'm afraid you gave me a bit of a start, Count Ashura." Tomoyo said. "I didn't realize I had company."

"Then please, accept my apology for making such a clumsy mistake," Ashura replied smoothly, bowing as he took Tomoyo's hand and kissed it lightly.

"Of course," Tomoyo said pleasantly, ignoring the pounding in her head. 

"_Tell me what you see, duchess."  
_

Ashura released her hand and stood up straight. "I had just stepped out for a moment's peace and I saw you there..." he trailed off.

"Oh?" Tomoyo asked, eyes twinkling. "And why, exactly, were you walking out of the party?"

Ashura raised an eyebrow. "For the same reason you did, I expect."

"Yes," Tomoyo replied, "But guests may come and go as they like. It's bad manners for a host to leave, Your Lordship."

"Well then," Ashura grinned, "Since I am such a bad mannered miscreant, I feel you hardly need to address me by title, Your Grace." 

"In that case - " Tomoyo paused " - Ashura-san, I ask that you address me by name, as well." 

"As you wish, Tomoyo-san. Would you like to see more of the garden?" 

"Yes, very much so." Her heart ached as he led her on a tour of the garden - she still had trouble seeing it clearly. There was nothing that the count could do about that. No matter what she tried, the ghostly images from her vision overlapped everything.

"_Tell me..."  
_

_Time and place, duchess_, Tomoyo chided herself and concentrated ferociously until she could see reality through her vision. It really was a beautiful garden, and conscious of the minutes of silence between the two, she said so. "I don't know how you get it this way, Ashura-san. I can't even keep a potted plant alive for more than a week."

He bowed his head at the compliment. "It's just a talent, I suppose, and a lot of effort. I wish I had time to tend to all the gardens myself, but that's simply not possible. The gardeners tend to the rest and this small courtyard is my playground."

"You've certainly worked wonders with it."

"Thank you. That means a lot, coming from someone whose opinion I respect so much. Although," Ashura hesitated for a moment, "You really should come back sometime in the day, to get the full effect."

Tomoyo smiled. "Is that an invitation?"

"Only if you accept." 

"Then I accept. Sadly, I think I shall have to say goodbye for tonight. These midnight soirees really wear me out. I ought to get back home now." 

"Of course. Goodnight, Tomoyo-san." 

"Goodnight, Ashura-san." 

Tomoyo strolled away and didn't see the person who came out of the shadows and approched Ashura. 

- 

"Something you're not telling me, Tomoyo?"

The duchess looked up from the letter she was writing. "Once again, Yuko-san, you have baffled me."

"You and Count Ashura looked awfully cozy back there." 

Tomoyo stretched and suppressed a yawn. She had meant to go to bed as soon as she got home from Ashura's party, but she had remembered some important business she still had to take care of. An hour and several cups of tea later, and sleep was starting to look like a dream. "I do believe you're implying something, Yuko-san, and it's too late for subtleties."

"Implying?" The witch leaned against the wall, smoking and trying to look injured. "I was merely observing that he was being very friendly, and neither of you is married - " 

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. 

" - And of course, 'Duke Ashura of Edo' has such a nice ring to it, at lease it probably does in his  
ears," Yuko finished, taking a drag on her cigarette.

"Only right on one count," Tomoyo said, bemused. "He was being friendly, because he's a friend." This was partially true. Ashura and Tomoyo were 'friends' because they didn't loathe each other's existence. Nobles consider any other noble who isn't an enemy to be a friend. They have to - there aren't enough nobles for them to be picky, and they have too much pride to make friends with the lower classes.

Yuko narrowed her eyes. "I hadn't realized you knew him well." 

"I don't, actually," Tomoyo admitted. "He went to school with my brother, years ago, but he lives in Yamano most of the time."

"So how can you be so sure that he has no matrimonial plans for you?" 

"I just don't think that's the case." 

"Did you have a vision about him?" 

"No, the duchess sighed. "This vision that's been hanging over me blocks out every other vision."

"Just don't rule it out, then. I mean, he's getting old, he probably wants to settle down."

"Yuko, he's 27!"

"Which is positively ancient for a bachelor, at least the way they marry in Yamano." The witch exhaled, creating a butterfly with the smoke. "Not that 23 is much better, mind you."

"I refuse to discuss my love life with you at 2 in the morning."

"Why? There's nothing to discuss. It's not a conversation that requires much brain power." 

"Unlike every other conversation with you." Tomoyo sounded more amused than anything at how contrary and cryptic the witch could be.

Yuko sniffed disapprovingly. "Now you sound like Black Wolf, although he probably would have thrown in a few curse words."

"I still don't understand why you hired a mercenary for me, Yuko. I don't think this Black Wolf is going to be much help washing dishes."

"But his dishwashing skill is legendary!" Yuko protested loudly. The women shared a smile before she continued, more seriously, "He's a good man to have around, Tomoyo. When what's going to happen happens, I'll feel much more at ease knowing he's with you."

"Yes," Tomoyo said gravely, all trace of mirth gone. "And you aren't going to tell me anything about that, are you?"

They stare at each other remembering another occasion when the duchess had asked the witch the same thing.

_The witch had glared down her nose at the petite woman. "You see the future. Tell me what you see, duchess."_

_Tomoyo had responded slowly, using all her willpower to make the vision weaker, so that it wouldn't overrun her senses completely._

"_I see blood, and fire, and pain."  
_

"_That's all? I had understood your visions were usually more specific."  
_

"_They are, usually, but this time...there is too much death. It clouds out everything else."  
_

"You're still having the same vision." Yuko said it with an air of certainty, and Tomoyo wondered briefly if she had ever been in doubt of anything in her life.

"Yes," the duchess whispered. "I can't make it go away, and I can't make it more precise. I have to use most of my concentration just to make it bearable, just to stop myself from going mad." She laid her head on her arms. "I'm tired of it. I don't just see it anymore. I feel it and smell it and taste it - death. I'm so tired of the taste of death."

The witch looked at her with something that might have been pity. "Sometimes things get worse before they get better. Sometimes they just get worse. Your job, the reason you are having this vision, is to ensure that it is the former. That's why I'm here," Yuko added in a whisper. 

"I thought you couldn't interfere?" Tomoyo asked, opening her eyes slowly.

"I can't - not directly. But I can maniuplate a few things before the certain goes up."

"Such as hiring me a new servant."

Yuko just smiled. "It really is late, duchess. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Tomoyo stood up shakily. "I have too much to do tonight."

The witch shook her head and kissed the duchess on the forehead. "Sleep now." The young woman fell asleep and was placed in her chair. Yuko pulled a small bell out of her sleeve, rang it loudly, and placed it back in her sleeve.

The door opened and a woman stepped in. "You rang, Your Grace?" she asked, and then saw the situation. "Or I suppose it was Your Honorable Self," she amended with a deep bow. None of the duchess' servants were exactly clear on who the witch was, so they played it safe and were respectful to her on the rare occasions that they met her.

"Yes, Souma-san, Her Grace has fallen asleep at her desk. Perhaps you could help her into her bed...?"

"Certainly," the lady's maid nodded. It wasn't unusual for her to find the duchess asleep at her desk late in the night, but nothing she said changed the woman's habits, and there was only so much a servant could tell a noble about how to act.

The witch was about to leave but had a thought. "Tell me, Souma-san, you have worked for Tomoyo-san's family for a long time?"

The maid nodded again, beaming with pride. "Yes, Honor. My mother and myself were hired years ago, while the Duke was still alive."

"That's right. I seem to recall that you were refugees at the time."

Souma wasn't sure if this was an accusation. Her first instinct was to answer defensively. Her second instinct was to call the first instinct an idiot, and her third instinct was to be very careful what she said to Yuko.

"That's true."

Yuko smirked inwardly. She knew she inspired fear or at least cautiousness from people who didn't even know she was a witch. The fact made her very happy. "I suppose you must be grateful to the family, then, for giving you a job, a way out of the refugee camps."

Souma realized where this conversation was going. "I am loyal to the duchess, Your Honor. I would do anything for her, out of respect and gratitude to her family and to her personally."

Yuko tilted her head and nodded. "Good. Good. I really should be going. Tomorrow's going to be an interesting day."

"As you say, Your Honor."


	4. Old Friends, Old Habits

Disclaimer: Tsubasa and its characters belong to CLAMP; Willikins the butler belongs Terry Pratchett.

-

Kurogane woke before dawn, so that he would have plenty of time for sword practice before he had to report to work – it wouldn't do to get sloppy and out of practice. He didn't want those jokes about his being "tamed" to have any amount of truth to them.

Syaoran woke before noon, but just barely. He blinked and groaned as sunlight fell in his eyes through the open window and made him realize just how bad of a headache he had. The temptation to return to bed was strong, but he felt much too grimy for that. Instead, he pulled himself into a standing position and, leaning heavily on the couch.

"Good morning, sleepy head!" a much too exuberant voice called out.

Syaoran turned, wincing at the noise, and saw Mokona sitting with his feet propped up on the table, sipping a cup of tea.

"Morning, Mokona-san," the boy replied with a yawn. "You know Kurogane hates it when you do that."

Mokona said nothing, but his smile asked _why_ Syaoran thought he did it in the first place?

Feeling horrible but strengthened by the sight of the tea and hot food Mokona had brought, he walked over to the table and sat down slowly. As he started eating he wondered, once again, how his nosy neighbor managed to get in without a key (assuming he didn't have one – Kurogane would have a conniption if he found out that Mokona had a key to their apartment, and Mokona might have stolen one for this very reason), but he had asked before and never been given a real answer.

Syaoran had never asked why Mokona was so generous to someone who was practically a stranger. It had seemed odd, at first, but now he was just grateful. The food was much better than cheap taverns fare or anything that he could cook. It reminded him of how his mother used to make soup for him when he was ill.

"I thought you were going to sleep all day," Mokona said, looking pointedly at the wall. "I guess I should have brought lunch."

Syaoran shook his head and swallowed. "This is fine. Thank you. I just, well, had a late night."

The androgynous figure across the table turned to look at Syaoran, who was thrown off balance by the amount of concern in that glance. "You seem to be having a lot of those lately. Are you sure you're okay?" His tone was sad but comforting at the same time, and Syaoran couldn't help but think his mom – there was something so _motherly_ about Mokona. It made him homesick.

He was homesick more and more often these days. He thought about running away, leaving Nihon far behind and starting over someplace where he could just forget. It wouldn't be much of a loss. His family was dead; his friends were scattered about – most of them had made the smart choice and moved far away the moment they were able to; the government was getting more oppressive daily, and no one said anything about it because the army was getting stronger at the same rate.

He could find a trading ship, setting out for Celes and the lands beyond, go where it took him and never to return to Nihon. He was strong and quick, and he didn't mind hard work. It would be simple to get a job as a sailor and leave all this behind, run away form this city of memories and broken dreams. Maybe then he could finally stop thinking about his parents, and the girl. The more he thought about them the more desperately he missed them and less real they seemed, as though they had been products of his sleeping mind.

"I'm the same as ever," Syaoran said with a shrug. "And I would love to stay and chat, but I overslept and I really need to see if I can find some work today."

"Of course," Mokona replied, back to his usual liveliness. "Good luuuuuuck!"

He drank the last of his tea and left. If he had no luck finding work as a mercenary again today, he would start looking for other jobs. Caldina had mentioned something about needing more waiters. It was time to forget his pride; he still owed Kurogane for his half of last month's rent.

-

"I can't stay for very long, I'm afraid," Tomoyo apologized as she poured a little cream into her tea.

"That's fine!" Touya shouted from the kitchen, where he was placing biscuits and napkins onto a plate. "I'm just happy you stopped by!"

Tomoyo frowned slightly as she eyed his messy dining room. Tomorrow when she visited she would have to tidy up a bit. She didn't know why she bothered – Touya certainly didn't. He was one of those people who just seemed to be surrounded by clutter. Any room he occupied for any length of time looked like a disaster zone. "Well, I enjoy your company," she said as he entered the room.

Her host put down the snacks and poured himself a cup of tea. "And I enjoy yours, especially as I don't get much company." He ran a hand through his hair and struggled with his next words. "It really means a lot to me. Your support. That you still...associate with me."

The duchess leaned across the table and hugged him, making him stammer a protest, "Hey, get off!" She giggled and released him, pretending she didn't hear him mutter, "You'll knock over the tea, you crazy woman."

"Touya," Tomoyo said firmly. There was always a chance for miscommunication, since they so rarely discussed their emotions seriously, and she wanted to make sure he knew how she felt. "You are my oldest, dearest friend. You're more of a brother to me than my own brother was. I love you and I respect you, and I'm not going to turn my back on you because it's the fashionable thing to do."

"Thank you," Touya said quietly, staring at his tea. "I just – I know how petty and hurtful people can be, and I don't want you to share my fate."

"Don't worry," the duchess assured him. "Some people snub me, but mostly just the arrogant, fusty old nobles who I never liked anyway. It's not as thought I were being ostracized. Besides," she added, hoping to put a smile on his face, "You have more friends at court than you realize. Most of our generation still likes you; they're just scared of what their parents think."

"So when the old nobles all die off, I'll be accepted back at court?" Touya raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting something?"

Tomoyo laughed, and her host smiled briefly. It wasn't a very joyful smile, but it was something, and it lightened the girl's mood considerably. For a moment she forgot about visions and politics.

"Patience. And maybe some poison," she said lightly. A joke like that could get her in serious trouble if the government ever found out about it, but she wasn't worried. They didn't spy on Touya. Tomoyo had taken great pains to ensure that even the censors didn't bother with him. It would be a complete disaster if they ever decided to.

"So where are you off to in such a hurry today that you haven't even _tried_ to clean the place up a bit?" Touya asked mockingly.

Tomoyo nearly choked on the biscuit she had just bitten into. She really should have expected he would read her mind like that. She pretended to be aloof. "I am going to visit Count Ashura, since you ask."

She was expecting him to tease her, or roll his eyes, or something like that. Instead, he frowned. "Don't," he snapped.

Tomoyo was surprised by his sudden hostility and responded defensively. "He invited me to see his gardens. It isn't a big deal, and it would be rude to stand him up after I said I was going."

"I don't care," Touya said, eyes flashing. Tomoyo shifted uncomfortably, recalling how he had always disliked Ashura. "I don't like him, Tomoyo."

"I don't see what the trouble is, Touya," the duchess replied, a little more harshly than she had intended. "I'm not going to marry him or anything. And I don't see what business it is of yours who I spend my time with, anyway."

He muttered something she couldn't hear. Tomoyo wanted to ask him why he had such a problem with the Count, but the expression on his face made her think that he wouldn't tell her. Instead they finished their tea in awkward silence.

When it was time for Tomoyo to leave, Touya sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just that the court is a dangerous place right now, and I worry about you."

Tomoyo kissed him on the cheek. "I know. I'll take care of myself." She glanced out the window at her car and its new driver. "I have people looking out for me, too. I'm more worried about _you_."

"We're fine," Touya said. "Now go. I wouldn't want you to be late for your DATE."

"Not you too," the duchess groaned.

"Yuuko?" he asked wryly, and she nodded. "Someday we'll find you a nice husband," he added wickedly.

"I have lived my _entire life_ surrounded by matchmakers, Touya, don't you _DARE_ become one," she warned with a glare.

He chuckled. She was so glad to hear him laugh that her frown faded away.

The two exchanged goodbyes and Tomoyo left, waving as she stepped into her car. Her driver headed off towards Ashura's, but she looked behind long after Touya's small residence was out of sight. She doubted he realized just how much she worried about him. His dad threw him out, he had no money, and the only real friend he had was Tomoyo. All he had left was his title, which was no good to him if he wasn't accepted at court. And if that wasn't enough, he'd agreed to take in their little stray...

"Your Grace?" and exasperated voice interrupted her thoughts, and she realized that her driver had been calling her for sometime.

"Sorry," she answered, "I was thinking about something."

"Yes, Your Grace," her driver replied. "We're here."

"Thank you, Kurogane-san," she told the former mercenary as he opened her door to let her out of the car. He nodded, keeping his face neutral, and returned to the driver's seat.

Ashura's butler Willikins answered the door at Tomoyo's first knock. "His Lordship is in the study, Your Grace," he announced.

"Very well. Show me to him."

"As you wish, Your Grace."

Ashura was seated at his desk, papers and open books scattered in front of him. He was in the middle of a conversation with another man, who was leaning against the wall with his back to the door. When the duchess entered the room, he stood and approached her. "Welcome, Tomoyo-san," he said, kissing her on the cheek with what Tomoyo thought was a little too much familiarity. "I am delighted to see you again. Please, let me introduce you to an old friend of mine – Fai, this is the Duchess of Edo. Tomoyo, this is Fai D. Flourite."

The blond man turned to face her and Tomoyo was struck by his pale good looks and his charming smile. "Pleased to meet you, Your Grace," he said, bowing rather more deeply than protocol demanded.

"Likewise," the petite woman replied.

"Please forgive the delay, Tomoyo-san, but Fai and I have some business to attend to and I'm afraid we got rather caught up," Ashura said smoothly as he returned to his desk.

"Not at all," the duchess tilted her head to the side. "What sort of business do you have here, Fai-san?"

"I'm a merchant," the blond answered cheerfully, "And His Lordship and I were discussing a contract concerning the Yamano province."

"If you don't mind my asking, you have a very slight accent, and I can't quite place it..."

"Celesian, Your Grace, and I certainly don't mind you taking an interest." He winked.

Tomoyo would have blushed, if she were prone to that sort of thing. She couldn't tell if he was flirting with her, and though he was an attractive man – especially when he smiled – she rather hoped he wasn't.

Ashura used her mildly embarrassed silence to shuffle through some papers. "Ah! This has the proposed details of the trade agreement; I was hoping you could look it over before anything is finalized."

"Of course," Fai said, taking the paper which and studying it intently.

Tomoyo coughed slightly. "If I'm interrupting something, gentlemen, I'd be more than willing to give you some time."

"I'm afraid I'm being a very poor host, Tomoyo-san, but if you would give us just a minute to finish our discussion, Willikins will show you to the garden and I'll join you there shortly." Ashura waited until the duchess had nodded her assent and then rang for the butler. The count repeated his instructions and his servant bowed, ushering Tomoyo from the room. She glanced over her shoulder as she stood in the door way – Ashura smiled at her and Fai waved. She left, both amused and disdainful.

Ashura turned back to Fai. "I want to know what you make of this matter," he said after a moment's silence. "That is why I am going to give you this." He held up a small vial of red liquid, about the size of a thimble. Fai snapped to attention when he saw it, limbs quivering with pent up emotion. He very nearly licked his lips as he held out his hand.

Ashura noticed the effect the vial had on Fai and pulled it away rather than giving it to him. When despair flickered involuntarily across the other man's face, the count cautioned him, "For this purpose _only_. Do you understand?"

Fai closed his eyes and breathed heavily. "Yes, sir," he whispered and opened his eyes when the vial was placed in his hands. He drained it of its contents – an easy task considering its very small size – and stumbled over to a chair as his legs gave out. He collapsed, moaning, trying to rest his throbbing head in his hands but lacking the strength even for that.

"Rest now," Ashura murmured softly, so as not to cause Fai any additional pain in his sensitive state. "When you are feeling more yourself come join us in the garden."

Fai managed to nod.

-

AN: I introduced Fai a bit earlier than planned, because I've missed writing him. He's one of my favorite characters and a hell of a lot of fun to play around with.

This chapter was a bit delayed, for which I apologize, but I was visiting my aunt (whose computer was dead) and came home in the middle of a heat wave. All was hot and sticky and humid, and I was far too tired and grumpy to do anything requiring more concentration than lying on the floor all day. It didn't help that I read over this and found that the beginning was truly awful and needed serious modification. I'm still not happy with it and I thought of cutting it, but I'm keeping it here for now, as I'm trying to get Syaoran more involved.

The next chapter will be a bit delayed as I'm still hammering out some of the plot details, and I've been lazy about updating my other story. I should have known I couldn't handle two stories simultaneously, but I'm something of an optimist...or maybe I'm just bad at reality. Maybe they're the same thing.

As always, reviews, etc. are most welcome!


	5. We All Want to Change the World

Disclaimer: Tsubasa and any characters you recognize belong to CLAMP; the song "Revolution" and its lyrics belong to those wonderful, crazy geniuses The Beatles; and I'm pretty sure the plants mentioned here don't really exist but if they do, they belong to nature.

-

"No? Nothing?" Syaoran sighed. "Thank you for your time, anyway."

He turned and walked through the market place, disheartened. There were too few jobs, especially for mercenaries. It wasn't as though the need had decreased in the last three years (if anything, it had increased), but few people could pay and those who could were too afraid to; no one wanted to give the government a reason to investigate them. When the new king took over, a number of people had been arrested for seditious behavior, simply because they had hired someone to help guard their store, or their home. Now people knew better, and were more careful. And it wasn't as if he were the only unemployed fighter, either.

As if to remind him of that, he noticed Chun'yan chatting excitedly with a storekeeper. He slowed and stopped, nervous. Chun'yan was an old friend, and he hadn't seen her in a long time – it might be nice to talk with her. On the other hand, he wasn't really sure he was up to talking with an old friend. He was about to turn and walk away when the decision was made for him – Chun'yan, purchases in hand, strolled out of the shop and saw him. "Syaoran-kun!" she cried, and ran up to him. "How are you? I haven't seen you in so long, may I - ?" she hugged him fiercely and he stumbled backward a few steps. She didn't seem to notice, but fortunately released him before he fell over.

She looked at him, smiling hugely – and Syaoran remembered that anything she did, anything she felt, anything she said, she put her all her energy into it. "Wow, I _am_ glad I ran into you," she beamed. "I've been thinking about you, well all of you really, and it would have been a shame to have left without having said goodbye."

"You're leaving?" Syaoran asked, surprised and a little hurt.

"Yes, tomorrow. I was just buying some things for the trip, and of course talking to some of my friends in the shops. I mean, there's always letters, but that's not the same as really seeing someone and having a conversation with them. And it will be too bad to leave so many friends behind, but Mong Ryong knows some people in Koryo, and we'll be staying with them for a while, so we won't be completely on our own – " she paused. "Syaoran-kun, why don't you come to the shop? It would be nice to share one last cup of tea, and I know Mong Ryong would like to say goodbye to you, too."

"Oh, I don't know – " Syaoran began, but never got a chance to finish.

"Please? If you're not too busy?" Chun'yan was more contained and quieter now, and he felt he could hardly bear to disappoint her.

"Alright," and when she smiled he felt himself smiling in return. When she was gone, he was going to miss her infectious good moods, and he was now very glad that she had forced him to stay and talk.

-

The garden was, as promised, more beautiful in the daylight than it had been the night before. It was truly a work of art, and she said so; Ashura brushed off her compliments as etiquette dictated, but he did seem pleased by them. The two began their tour alone, walking slowly as Ashura pointed out interesting plants and Tomoyo tried to absorb every detail that made it through her vision and to her senses. After a short time, the Celesian joined them, and they continued as before, with Fai rarely joining in the conversation, as though he felt he was intruding.

"These are very odd flowers," Fai commented when they walked past a bush whose flowers had white and purple petals.

"These," Ashura explained, "Are called 'chessboard flowers,' because they resemble a chessboard – at least they do if one looks quickly and mistakes the dark purple for black. They are very easy flowers to grow; they require very little."

"Unlike chess itself," Tomoyo said as she delicately touched one of the large flowers and smelled it. Its fragrance was too weak, however, and was overpowered by the smell smoke and blood. "Do you play chess, Fai-san?" she asked, trying to distract herself.

The blond shook his head. "No, actually, it's not a game we have in Celes, and I don't have much time to play games when I am traveling."

"Well, perhaps Ashura-san could teach you sometime."

"Me?" Ashura asked, bemused.

Tomoyo glanced at him quickly and resumed walking. "You are a rather skilled player, I believe."

The count lowered his head as he followed her – Tomoyo couldn't decide if his modesty was feigned or not. "You exaggerate, Tomoyo-san..."

"Not at all. If I remember correctly, you used to play with my brother, and you always won."

Ashura nodded, then added with slight hesitation, "That is true, although, meaning no disrespect, your brother was _not_ the most skilled opponent."

Tomoyo smiled and turned away. "What disrespect can come from speaking the truth?" she mused. "He always wanted to play with me, because I was one of the few people he could beat. I never much liked chess."

"I have found that I enjoy it less now than I once did," Ashura agreed, and added conversationally, "I hear that Fei Wong Reed is a very accomplished chess player."

The duchess was suddenly _very_ interested in the conversation, but gave no outward indication. _Why, _she wondered,_ would he mention _him Keeping her tone the same as before, she replied, "'Too each his own,' as my father used to tell me. I've always thought chess was a bit of a bore and a bit," she hesitated, but continued, "distasteful."

Ashura raised an eyebrow. "Boring, I can understand, but distasteful?"

Tomoyo looked at him out of the corner of her eye and answered as casually as she could, "Oh, sacrificing the other pieces for the sake of one – something about that always seemed so unpleasant."

"Some prefer that strategy, although one could try a more _cooperative_ approach." The count sounded just as casual – as though they were simply talking about chess. Tomoyo wasn't fooled, especially not when Ashura added, "Although I suppose that is why it is called 'The King's Game?'"

Tomoyo suddenly had a lot to think about, and remarked offhandedly. "Perhaps. I always assumed it was because you were trying to capture the other player's king."

Ashura smiled. "There is that, too."

Wishing to change the subject, Tomoyo pointed, "I don't think I have ever seen a plant quite like that."

He seemed to pick up on her intention, because he turned his attention to the bizarre spiky plant in front of them. "That is a rophite," he said, as joyful as he always was when discussing his garden. "Like my friend here," and he gestured at Fai, who bowed theatrically, "It comes from Celes."

"It's actually related to the cactus, although it has a number of differences that help it survive on the tundra," Fai began, and the two of them continued discussing botany while Tomoyo tried to listen. Her attention was divided; lately it was always divided, between the present and her vision, but now she also had the strange conversation and its double meaning to consider, and she hardly heard a word the men said for the rest of the afternoon.

-

Chun'yan and Mong Ryong lived in their shop, and since the shop took up so much space, they had little room for themselves. Still, they loved their work and they loved each other and they were happy; so happy that Syaoran had never expected them to move away from Nihon, although many people had done so. When he asked about this, Chun'yan sighed.

"We really want to stay," she mourned, while her husband darted around their small kitchen making tea. "But it's just getting too difficult. Well, you know how employment is around here."

"Yeah. Actually, I'm looking for a job myself," Syaoran confessed.

Chun'yan looked up at him. "Really? I guess that's why you seem kinda blue."

Syaoran decided to let her believe this – it was partly true, anyway. "I wouldn't have thought that would be a problem for you two."

Their shop sold herbal remedies, and they offered free medical advice and occasionally took in the sick who could not afford to go to a hospital or a licensed doctor. Their cures were not miracles, but they could help with many of the illnesses and injuries people faced in Nihon, and they charged very little, as little as they could without going out of business. While other stores languished, theirs was never short on customers, and they almost always had one or two beggars staying with them.

"It's not that, exactly. After Ryanban took the throne – may he reign for a long time and all that – I gave up trying to work as a mercenary and helped Mong Ryong with the store. But this employment problem is really just tied to everything else that's wrong with the economy, and it's so hard to find supplies. Still, we were managing, but lately..." Chun'yan trailed off and her husband set the tea in front of her and their guest.

"Chun'yan doesn't like talking about it," Mong Ryong explained, "but we were investigated."

"What?" Syaoran exclaimed. This was _bad_ news. Investigations nearly always ended with the same verdict: guilty.

Mong Ryong nodded and put and put a protective arm around his wife. "The censors say that herbal remedies are just one step away from..." Now it was his turn to trail off. No one wanted to say that dirty word, the one the censors were always listening for: _magic._

Syaoran nodded his understanding, and Mong Ryong continued quietly. "Personally, I think it's just an excuse. The government doesn't like charity work – they think it encourages laziness and sedition. So they've given us a choice: close the shop, pay them a fine – which is much heavier than we could afford – or go to jail."

Chun'yan nodded, her eyes filled with angry tears. "We've decided to close the shop, and we're going to move to Koryo."

"I have some family there," Mong Ryong explained. "They're involved in the war relief effort, and they're always looking for more doctors to help out."

"Good luck with that," Syaoran replied. "I'll miss you. Nihon just won't be the same without you."

Chun'yan reached out to him and squeezed his hand. "It's gonna be alright," she said reassuringly.

"I hope so." Syaoran drank his tea, trying to think of something he could say. "It's just...you were two of the last of us. It feels a little weird now that we're almost all gone."

"I know what you mean," she said, thinking. "I mean, there's you, and Kurogane-san is still around, and, oh, I can't even think of anyone else!"

"Ryo's back in town, actually," Syaoran remembered suddenly. "I ran into him last night at Clover."

Chun'yan jumped to her feet, startling the men on either side of her. "Caldina! I almost forgot about her! I really have to visit her before we go."

Syaoran, a little thrown off by Chun'yan's intensity, mentioned his own plans. "I was going to go over there and see if she wanted a new waiter. We could go together."

"Right!" Chun'yan exclaimed, but before she could head out the door Mong Ryong caught her with a laugh.

"Aren't you going to finish your tea first? If you don't, I'll finish the cookies all by myself," he teased.

"Don't do that!" Chun'yan huffed. "You'll get fat. And anyway, I made those cookies, so I should get to eat some." She looked offended when he laughed at her, but she sat down and took another sip of tea.

"There has to be more than just the five of us left in Nihon," she mused after a moment's silence.

Mong Ryong drummed his fingers on the table. "I saw that skinny guy the other day," he muttered. "He was in disguise."

"You saw Wata – " Chun'yan began excitedly, but Mong Ryong hushed her and whispered in her ear.

"We don't know if the censors are still watching us. Don't risk his cover." Red faced, Chun'yan nodded and finished her tea.

Syaoran stood and bowed to Mong Ryong. "Thank you for your hospitality, now, and in the past. I hope you meet with success in your future and I'll never forget all you have done for me."

Mong Ryong reached out to shake his hand. "We'll always remember your kindness," he replied solemnly, "And we'll always think of you as a friend. If you're ever in Koryo City, please, look us up."

"I will," Syaoran said, feeling the familiar pain of loss settling over him.

Chun'yan took two cookies, kissed her husband on the cheek, grabbed Syaoran's hand, and pulled him out the door.

-

Kurogane, still adjusting to his new servile role, had been mixing uneasily with the count's servants while he waited for the duchess. Not being a very social person, he felt little incentive to reach out to them in conversation, even if it would pass the time, and for the most part they ignored him. He wasn't sure if they were intimidated or conceited. Perhaps it was some social rule he had failed to learn because it was meaningless in his world, where decisions were straightforward.

He laughed a little at himself. He would never fool himself into thinking that his life had ever been simple, that choices had ever been straightforward. Life was complicated, and there was no point in wishing things to be something they were not.

He was grateful when the time had come for him to retrieve the car –what an extravagant waste that was; the duchess had legs and could easily walk through Nihon's sheltered aristocratic district – and drive it around to the front of the count's townhouse. It was pointless, but it got him away from those wide-eyed servants who faked ignorance of his presence even while they sneaked glances and whispers when they thought he didn't notice.

The moment he stepped in the car, though, he suddenly found himself missing their company – anything was better than _her_.

"I do _hope_ I'm not being a bother," Yuko sighed, exhaling smoke into the car's exterior.

Kurogane snorted. "That's what you said the first time I met you, and you've been nothing but a bother since."

Yuko grinned, looking at him through nearly closed eyes. "Oh? How sweet, you remember our first conversation."

"Don't take it personally."

"You shouldn't toy with a woman's heart like that, Kurogane."

"You don't have one."

"If I didn't know better, Kurogane, I'd say you were trying to be hurtful." There was a pause, while Kurogane tried not to snarl and Yuko twisted the smoke from her cigarette into the shape of a butterfly. "Do you remember a lot about those days?"

Kurogane started out the window. Sometimes he was mildly surprised that the sun had risen in the morning; it felt wrong, as though the universe should had noticed what had happened in Nihon and stopped its routine for at least one moment of respectful silence. "I remember everything about those days."

The witch stared at the chauffeur, and while normally he did his best to resist her mind games, this time he felt the pressure of her stare. He closed his eyes, but he could still sense her watching, and he felt compelled to say something and break the silence. "I don't know how anyone could forget."

Yuko looked away, as serious as he'd ever seen her. "A lot of people have," she stated coolly.

Her words had a hypnotic effect on him, or maybe it was the smoke – which didn't smell like cigarette smoke, but more like incense from a ceremony he'd been dragged to as a boy. In the time it took for him to blink, he could see that night, the two of them in a dark alley, as though he were standing beside himself.

"_I hope I'm not being a bother," she said, leaning against the wall of the tavern he had just exited, "But I was hoping for a word."_

"_Look, if you want a mercenary, find someone else. I'm busy." He had just turned around and started to walk off when her words froze him in place._

"_Oh, I know, your sister eloped with the tailor's assistant and you're still trying to talk some sense into her. Silly, really; she's a grown woman; let her make her own decisions." As he turned slowly to confirm that this mystery woman was really there, was really saying the words he was hearing, she smiled predatorily at him. "Besides, it's been four years since your parents died, and she needs some more love in her life." She walked slowly up to him, looking him over and making a decision. "As for me, well, I need the Black Wolf."_

"_What the hell are you talking about?" Kurogane barked, drawing his sword._

_She tutted like a disappointed school teacher, and suddenly he was holding a large feather rather than a sword. "You can have your toy back when you've proved that you can act like a rational human being," she said condescendingly._

_Kurogane bit back an angry reply; he hated magic, but he knew better than to piss off a witch. "Why are you here?" he finally managed to ask._

_The witch stepped even closer to him and said in a low voice, right in his ear, "I have a job for you, Kurogane – if I may call you Kurogane?"_

"_No," he growled, but she paid no attention._

"_Kurogane, there is a man named Clow Reed who lives in the Jeweled District. I want you to help him."_

_The mercenary found he liked this situation even less than he had a moment before, although he wouldn't have thought that possible before. Jeweled District meant that this Reed person was either a noble or a wealthy commoner aspiring to be a noble. Either was fine as an employer, for the occasional odd job, but he had no desire to spend any more time in their company than necessary._

"_No," he said again, more forcefully this time._

_She listened to him this time, stepping back and nodding. "Of course, you don't _have_ to do anything you don't _want _to," she sighed. "I am not allowed to force the actions of any one person. But you really should; and I think, if you listened, you'd realize that."_

"_Why?" he asked, more out of the stubbornness than any desire to hear what she had to say – he's put up with this so far, and he was going to get something out of it._

"_Because," the witch said, lighting a cigarette and pausing for suspense, "There is going to be an attempt on the king's life, and you and Clow Reed have to stop the assassins."_

_Kurogane opened his eyes wide. "What are you – " but she held a finger to his lips and cut him off._

"_It's your decision," she shrugged. "But if you decide to help Clow, tell him Yuko sent you." She kissed his cheek and was gone._

Kurogane's mind was split between the past and the present, and he dimly heard Yuko speaking. "They lie to themselves. They avoid thinking about it in the hopes that that will somehow change what happened. They run away, most of them without ever leaving the city. They push it so far away from themselves that even when they dream about it, they can't remember what their dreams. They just recall that it was something unpleasant, and they laugh it off and move on."

He shook off the last mind numbing effects of the flashback – he'd be damned if he let her know how much her magic had affected him – and grumbled, "Damn noble cowards."

She laughed emptily. "It isn't just the nobles, Kurogane; although I've always wondered why you hate them so much."

He glared at her. "They're spoiled, over privileged, self important, useless creatures who assume that everyone with less money is somehow less of a human."

Yuko met his glare with calm, unblinking eyes. "Yet you were willing to risk your life to save the king and his family."

He frowned. "That's different," he said sharply – she should know that as well as anyone.

She looked away. "I'm glad you realize it," she said. So it had been a test. Damn her. "It's going to be important that you remember that."

His dislike for her didn't stop him from picking up on that comment. "What do you mean, it's _going_ to be important?"

"I wouldn't dream of giving away my secrets, Kurogane – really, what kind of woman do you think I am? But for the sake of _friendship_ I will say that you have to remember that if you will be able to do as you did before, and protect the ruler."

Kurogane snapped. "If you think I give a damn about Ryanban, you're even more screwed up than I thought you were."

Yuko raised an eyebrow. "Who said anything about Ryanban?"

Before he had a chance to say anything, she was gone. The scent of smoke was gone too, as though she had never been there. The only evidence of her presence was Kurogane's foul temper.

"Damn that bitch! She's not getting me mixed up in any more of these stupid power struggles between nobles and kings and armies." He raised his fist to slam it against the steering wheel, knowing that it would do nothing to ease his anger, but the door of the count's townhouse opened and the duchess stepped outside. He leapt out of the car and around it in time to open the door for her and close it after her.

"Thank you, Kurogane-san," she said to him once he was back in the driver's seat. "I hope your afternoon went well?"

If there was something that annoyed Kurogane more than a noble, it was a noble feigning interest in a commoner they pretended to think of as 'equal.' Still, the woman paid him, and he didn't even want to think about what horrible fates Yuko would unleash on him if he were rude to the duchess – assuming there was something more horrible than her usual cryptic screwing up his life. "Well enough, Your Grace," he replied, touching his driver's cap with one hand in place of a bow.

He saw the duchess nod in the rearview mirror and noticed for the first time how tired she looked. She said quietly "I'm glad," in a voice so warm and sweet that he almost believed her, and then she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Kurogane drove back to her townhouse slowly, avoiding the rougher streets in the Jeweled District.

-

"Chun'yan, I haven't seen you in forever and a day!" Caldina exclaimed when the two walked through the door.

The young woman ran to embrace her friend while Syaoran looked around. Although he'd become a regular at the bar in the last year, he'd never been there in the daylight. The place looked completely different – it was a well lit, comfortable restaurant. He knew that the bar was open in the day, and that it served a more respectable crowd, but he'd never thought about what that must be like.

The place was nowhere near as crowded as it got at night, but he attributed that to the fact that it was late afternoon – too late for lunch, too early for dinner. There was something else different, but he couldn't put his finger on it until he saw a beautiful woman in the corner, singing. She was new, and he realized that the mediocre performers he was used to were gone.

Caldina and Chun'yan were talking quickly and excitedly to each other in that way that women were so comfortable with and men were so confounded by. He drifted closer to them and picked up enough to tell that they were discussing Koryo City, but failing to follow the conversation he let his mind wander and looked around the room. A man was placing food in front of customers, speaking politely to them, and refilling their drinks. _Yeah, I could do that,_ he thought. _Probably gets dull, but a job's a job._

"But I really think Syaoran has something he wanted to talk to you about," Chun'yan said abruptly, and Syaoran jumped back to attention at hearing his name.

"Um. Right. Caldina-san. I was wondering if you were looking to hire any waiters. I know you were saying last week you were short-handed..." the boy swallowed nervously when he saw the regretful look on the bartender's face.

"Oh Syaoran-kun, if only you'd asked yesterday! But I just hired a bunch of new people, and I really can't afford any more help right now."

"Oh. Okay, that's alright then." Syaoran swallowed.

Caldina patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry. I hear of anyone else hiring, I'll put your name up, and Caldina's word in this town is better than money." She winked at him, and he managed a smile for her. "So smile! Don't you know it's gonna be alright?" she teased him. "Tell you what, I'll get you some leftovers from lunch, you can take them home and share them with that grumpy roommate of yours."

This time his smile was a little more genuine, and sensing that, Caldina nodded and headed to the kitchens to find what she could for him. "Something filling," she muttered to herself, "That boy looks like skin and bones."

Syaoran and Chun'yan sat at an empty table nearby, shooing away the waiters and talking about her plans for the future. As excited as she was about the war relief effort, she was hoping for a little time off. "We want kids," she explained. "I want a _lot_ of kids, but Mong Ryong says we should be realistic. I really hope for a daughter, but you know that _he_ has four brothers, so who knows? Anyway, if we have a girl, we're going to name her Wall Mae."

Syaoran nodded – he knew how close Chun'yan and her mother had been. "You'll teach her about medicine?"

Chun'yan nodded happily. "Just like my mother learned about medicine from her mother, and she from hers, and so on. And if were in Koryo, I can teach her some of the _other_ things that have been passed down through my family."

Caldina returned to them before Syaoran could decide whether or not to comment on Chun'yan's indiscretion (just talking about magic, even if one didn't use the word, could lead to serious trouble). She placed several boxes of food on the table and mimed writing on a waiter's pad. "Is there anything else I can get for you this evening?" she asked in a deep voice.

Chun'yan giggled and propped her head up on one hand. "Hey Caldina-san, I was wondering about the music...you always used to have that dreadful singer, but this is really quite pleasant."

"That," Caldina said as she sat in an empty chair, "Is my new singer, Oruha. The old singer was a relative of mine, distant cousin or something, I don't even know, but it still made it kind of awkward to fire the guy. Last week he told me he's moving out to the border, got some job that he thinks is gonna make him a millionaire. Took the band and half the waiters with him too, got them all believing this get-rich-quick scheme of his. I was going out of my mind before this lady walks in with a beautiful voice, a pianist, and a bunch of friends looking for jobs." She remembered herself and nodded apologetically to Syaoran. "Sorry about the timing on that."

"No, it's alright," he protested, and gestured vaguely at the food. "You're already doing so much to help. I really can't accept all this food, though."

Caldina shrugged. "Take it, leave it, give it away, I don't care, just get it out of my kitchen," she said, and noticed one of her chefs waving frantically at her. "I gotta go, I'll see you around," she said to Syaoran before turning to Chun'yan, "and _you_ have a great time in Koryo and write me letters, okay?"

"Okay," Chun'yan agreed, jumping to her feet and hugging the bartender. "Bye, Caldina-san, I'll miss you."

"No, you'll be too busy writing me all those letters to miss me," she replied, and dashed into the kitchens.

The young woman and her friend walked slowly to the door. Chun'yan sniffed as she looked over her shoulder and confessed, "It still hardly feels like we're leaving. It doesn't seem right, you know? Like running away from the problems is cheating, like it's sneaky or wrong."

Syaoran, who had often considered leaving and didn't really know why he hadn't, answered slowly, "It's the smart thing to do."

His companion glared at him through tear-filled eyes. "That doesn't make it right," she said stiffly. "We ought to be doing something. Instead we're just going away. Sure, it's smart for us, but where does that leave everyone else?"

"The same place we'd be if you did something heroic and got arrested before you could accomplish anything."

They both stopped and stared at each other. Chun'yan looked down and mumbled, "Aw, Syaoran-kun, I'm gonna miss you to much to spend this last meeting being angry and sad."

The boy who had received so much comfort from others tried to return the favor. "We'll see each other again, Chun'yan," he said with as much certainty as he could summon. "I promise."

It sounded weak, but it had its intended effect – she looked up at him, eyes still overflowing with tears but a smile on her face. "I'll hold you to that," she said confidently.

Syaoran pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. "I know. I always keep my promises."

-

That night, in her townhouse, the Duchess of Edo considered the Count of Yamano problem.

"What do we know about him? I mean, _really_ know?" she asked, absent-mindedly weaving a purple ribbon into her long hair.

Yuko lay sprawled out on her stomach, kicking her feet lazily in the air. "You mean, what do you know," she drawled, and a cigarette appeared between two of her long, slender fingers.

Tomoyo paused and looked at the witch. It was a sign of the stress the last few months had put on her that she snapped uncharitably, "Right, because you 'can't interfere,' or whatever your excuse is for not being useful."

Yuko shrugged, an unusually elaborate motion. "It's true," she said, unruffled by the duchess's harsh tone, "that I can't interfere; and if it's true, it isn't an excuse, it's an explanation. As for my being useful...you know better than anyone else how useful I have been to your plans. And that is when I am acting within my defined parameters."

The petite woman struggled to control her anger. It would do absolutely no good, she knew, but she was tempted to give in just this once. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply rather than say something regrettable. "Just as a matter of curiosity," she said, when she could speak neutrally, "what are your 'defined parameters,' and who defined them?"

Yuko smiled devilishly. "Well, I'd love to tell you, but..."

"Right, right," Tomoyo sighed. Deciding that if she were to deal with _two _mysterious acquaintances, she might as well do so on a full stomach, she rang for Souma. "So, the question is, what do _I_ really know about him?"

"You tell me," Yuko answered, and before Tomoyo could get angry again, she added, "I might be able to throw in some comments. But you start."

"Fine."

Before she could continue, Souma entered the library. Seeing Yuko, the lady's maid bowed twice, once to her mistress and once to the guest. "How can I be of service, my ladies?" she asked.

"Souma, we'd like something to eat, and some tea."

"Sake!" Yuko exclaimed, her eyes opening wide.

"And some sake for Yuko-san," Tomoyo added, rolling her eyes.

Souma bowed twice more and went to the kitchens, stopping first in the cellars to pull out several bottles of the finest sake in the house.

The conversation in the library continued, returning to the original point. "So. Ashura-san. 27, from the Yamano province, only child, parents died in the war."

"You sound like you're writing a personal ad."

Tomoyo sighed and tried to get more comfortable by lying down on her back. It did absolutely nothing for her headache, but it helped with her back pain. "I'm just starting with the obvious," she stalled.

"You just don't know that much about him, do you?"

"Well no, not really."

"Surprising, for someone who's such a good friend."

"I never said he was a _good_ friend. I just said he was a friend. I certainly don't know him well enough to chat treasonously with him during a garden tour!"

"But you think that's what he was getting at?"

"Yes, I think so. I definitely sounded like a slur against the king, and the royal advisor." Tomoyo, staring at the ceiling, didn't see how Yuko's eyes narrowed at this statement.

"Well, what else?"

"Hm...He's clever. That's certain. He knew that I knew what he was talking about. But he could be trying to trap me and have me arrested for treason, or he could be up to something himself and was sounding me out to see if I would help him or not."

"Both are distinct possibilities."

"_How_ does that qualify as being helpful, exactly?" Tomoyo grumbled, and Yuko grinned.

"Oh, it doesn't."

Souma interrupted what could have been a serious confrontation. After eating some takoyaki and drinking two cups of tea, Tomoyo felt less inclined to inflict serious injuries on the witch. Yuko, after finishing one bottle of sake and making a good start on the second, seemed less inclined to bate the already strained duchess. They resumed their conversation with the benevolent attitude that comes from being well fed.

"We need to decide if this is a trap, or an invitation," Tomoyo said. Yuko didn't respond and seemed not to have heard. "So: motive. Does he have something against the government, or is he benefiting from it?" Met with silence again, Tomoyo rubbed her temples with her fingers, repressing the unwelcome vision and concentrating. "To my knowledge, he didn't lose any close family members or friends because of Ryanban, but neither is he holding some office or receiving any money from the government."

"Motive is an uncertain indicator, anyway," Yuko commented. "Look at Kyle Rondart – his brother was one of the first executed for sedition under the new rule, and what does he do?"

"Good point," Tomoyo sighed. "So, motive is out. Associates?"

"Aside from the same wishy-washy nobles you socialize with, who is there?"

The duchess clicked her tongue. "His servants. The court in Yamano. None of the spies or rebels we are keeping an eye on are part of either group. Of course, there are others we don't know about." She tilted her head to the side. "That Celesian...there was something about him I couldn't put my finger on."

Yuko took another swig of sake. "What Celesian is this?"

"Oh, a merchant he's working with. I met him at his townhouse today. I think he said his name was Fai. Fai D. Flourite."

"We should have someone follow him around; we don't know anything about him."

"Except that he's a flirt."

Yuko was suddenly _very_ interested. "_Oh?_" she asked in an unconvincingly innocent tone.

Tomoyo ignored her and continued musing. "So we'll shadow Fai, see what we can discover about him. With any luck, he's an arms dealer who just escaped from prison for dealing with rebel factions, or a human smuggler. I doubt that Ashura would be so sloppy. And we should see if we can dig up anything about any of his servants, or the Yamano lords." She sighed.

Yuko looked at her. "Are you alright?" she asked with just a hint of concern in her voice.

The duchess closed her eyes. "I've forgotten what alright feels like," she said. "And I have a feeling we aren't going to find out anything about Ashura's associates. How on earth are we supposed to find out what he's up to?"

Yuko blinked. "You don't have to," she reasoned. "Pretend you never picked up on anything unusual this afternoon, and distance yourself from him as discretely as possible. If he's a spy, he won't have any evidence on you, and if he's plotting something, maybe you're better off not involved."

"That's just _it,_ Yuko! If he _is_ plotting something, I can't afford to not know about it. It could interfere with or even destroy what we're working for. And if it isn't - if he could be useful to us – I shouldn't have to tell you how badly we need help. A revolution doesn't just happen on its own, and without all the support we can get, it won't happen at all. Ashura's fairly popular, despite being aloof, and Yamano's a large province. If we had his help..."

"Is it worth the risk?" Yuko said, face and voice completely neutral.

"Yes. No." Tomoyo shook her head. "I just remembered that Touya hates Ashura."

"Is that a problem?"

"It could be. Two co-conspirators fighting could jeopardize the whole thing. And I don't know why Touya hates him, or how he feels about Touya."

"Then do nothing until you know more, although it could be advantageous to socialize with him more and see what else you can find out. You're perceptive; see if you can figure anything out."

"So that's your great advice? Do nothing?"

Yuko exhaled, and the smoke from her cigarette spread across the room and curled around Tomoyo. "Don't be insolent. Waiting to act until the correct moment is a good piece of advice, one that many people could benefit from having."

"I know. I just hate waiting."

"There is something else you can turn your attention to while you wait," Yuko said, and languidly gestured with her hand.

"Hm?" Tomoyo turned to ask the witch what she meant but was distracted by the smoke. Yuko often made images with her cigarette's smoke, so this was not anything too new. However, this was more elaborate and detailed than usual, and when it took its final form the duchess saw it was more like a picture. "Who's that?"

Yuko waved her hand and the image of the young man dispersed. "A friend of a friend," she answered vaguely. "Presently, he is no one, but he might have a role to play later."

Tomoyo tried to remember as much of the boy's appearance as she could. "So how does he require my attention?"

"I still don't feel comfortable that you are safe, and the rules imposed on me prevent me from casting any stronger protection and concealment spells on you than I have already. I'm working on getting a magician for you – and just _finding_ a magic user is a job and a half, in this town – "

The duchess had heard this tirade multiple times, and cut her off. "And I appreciate it, so _thank you_, now continue."

The witch obeyed. "But that might not be enough, so I think you should have more protection."

Tomoyo groaned. "What do you want, Yuko?"

"I think you should have Black Wolf around all the time. Get him to live here. After all, if someone tries to attack, it will probably be during the night."

"Well, I've learned not to question you, if only because you irritate me when I do. What does that have to do with the smoke-boy?"

"You'll need him around too, if for no other reason than to get Kurogane to come here. Later, though, I think he will be very important."

"Very well, Yuko, as you say."

-

That night, in his townhouse, the Count of Yamano considered the Duchess of Edo problem.

"She gives nothing away," he said, although the comment was directed toward himself than to the blond standing in front of him. "She is...intriguing." He smiled and turned to face Fai. "That is why I have asked to you to find out what you can about her. Now report."

"Yes sir. She has no remaining family, at least not in Nihon – her mother died in childbirth, her father went missing the war and is presumed dead, and her brother was arrested and executed for plotting to kill King Fujitaka." Ashura gave him an icy look that was not difficult to interpret – _You're not here to tell me what I know._ Fai continued, unruffled. "She went to visit him the night before his execution, despite the advisor's strict edict that no political prisoners are to have visitors. Apparently, she bribed the guard."

The count nodded slowly, thinking to himself, and Fai took this sign to continue. "I tracked down the guard, and he claims that he did not eavesdrop and knows nothing of their conversation."

"Was he telling the truth?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well. Continue."

"She's been known to visit the lady Xing Huo many times..." Fai paused. "It isn't my place to gossip about nobles, sir – "

"If you have something important to say, say it; if you don't, than do not waste time."

"Very well, sir. The lady's husband disproves of her meeting with others when he is not at home, and since his – " the blond coughed slightly "'job' keeps him out of the house for many hours a day, she feels he is asking her to remain locked up and alone. She doesn't obey his wishes on this matter, and it seems that the Duchess's visits have been the cause of several marital disputes between the two."

Ashura nodded slightly. "Then does the Police Chief dislike Tomoyo?"

"He doesn't seem to bear her too much ill will."

"Then it doesn't help me much," he grumbled, leaning forward and staring at his desktop.

Fai shook his head slightly, hoping it would not be taken as a sign of insubordination. "If I may speak freely..."

Ashura waved a hand without looking away. "Yes, of course. Why do you think you are here?"

"Alright then. I believe this piece of information is useful for two reasons: one, it seems to indicate that these are innocuous social calls. If she were an spy and were using these visits to inform on suspected rebels, than Police Chief Rondart would hardly object, would he?" Without waiting for an answer, Fai continued. "Secondly, it may be a pointless fact at the moment, but in my experience, the smallest, most trivial things can be very important later on."

"True," Ashura muttered. "Go on."

"The duchess also frequently visits the former Earl of Clow, Touya – and I say 'former,' but he still holds his title." Ashura frowned. "You know more about him than I do, but you may not have realized that he is very close to the Duchess, and that they see each other daily. He has had little to no contact with other nobles, or really anyone, since his disgrace. In fact, he has _too_ little contact."

Not as calm as before, the count asked, "Meaning?"

"Meaning that the censors have never approached him or investigated him, despite his well-known – connection – with certain elements of the previous government, and possible motive-"

"They've left him alone?" Ashura asked, surprised. "I assumed he was at liberty because they hadn't found sufficient evidence for a conviction – now that I think about it, that's a ridiculous assumption. It's never stopped them before. And he certainly can't afford a bribe, so someone's protecting him." He smirked. "Our sweet little duchess is rather into bribery."

Fai nodded. "So it would seem, although her official record is spotless. She spends most of her time in Nihon has not returned to Edo since the death of Fujitaka. Still, she runs affairs through a trusted lady, Kendappa. She sends letters to the lords and ladies of Edo frequently, as well as to important and wealthy merchants and artisans. The province is doing very well, and she is popular among the people there, both noble and common." Hesitating for a fraction of a second, he added "As you know, Edo is the largest province, and strategically positioned; it's necessary for any one attempting to rule Japan to have Edo's support."

Getting no response, the blond changed topics. "The Duchess is not known to have stated any opinions about the economic situation in Nihon, but she has given money to the Cherry Blossoms, an organization devoted to solving the unemployment crisis. She has also taken a more _personal_ involvement, hiring several workers and paying their transport to Edo."

"So she's gathering people, paying for their obedience, and sending them to her stronghold?" Ashura raised his eyebrows.

"It could certainly be interpreted in an unfavorable way, if anyone knew about it. However, she arranges things through an intermediary and her involvement has not been traced before."

The count smiled, pleased with Fai's work; but the blond was not finished.

"There is also one unusual case – a mercenary, known as 'Black Wolf,' who earned quite a reputation for himself in the wars as a fighter of exceptional strength and ferocity. She's hired him as her chauffeur."

Ashura laughed, but Fai's next words sobered him up. "There is also a chance that this Black Wolf was one of those involved in the rather confusing events surrounding Fujitaka's death. It's unclear, because no one really knows what happened, but he seems to have had a connection with Clow Reed."

"Also, I take it, a connection that no one else has discovered before," the count suggested.

"If anyone had, he would not be alive today," Fai answered.

"Or he would be In prison, being interrogated by the advisor's special force, not driving a noble around the Jeweled Crescent," Ashura finished, drumming his fingers on his desk. "I _saw_ him this afternoon. He looked rather unremarkable; the next time I see him I will look more closely." The count stood and walked around the desk to be face to face with Fai. "You have been very useful, certainly enough to justify use of your talents – " Fai smiled with relief, but paled when he heard what else Ashura had to say, "but I wonder if there isn't anything of a less concrete nature that you learned."

"When the Duchess was here," he began slowly, afraid his information would be insufficient, "I noticed that she has a 'talent' of her own."

"Magic?"

"Yes, but something unusual. She has a strong ability, but I got the idea that it was something she couldn't fully control. I would say from personal experience that she was suffering magic fatigue."

"What sort of ability are you talking about?"

Fai shut his eyes for a brief second, and if he had been at all religious he would have prayed. "I don't know, sir. She had some formidable but subtle magical protections around her."

Much to his surprise, Ashura looked curious and not angry. "Oh? What can you tell me about the protections?"

Grateful, Fai continued quickly. "She _definitely_ did not cast them herself. I don't know who did, but it is someone very gifted – perhaps the strongest magic user I've ever seen. The protections are designed merely to hide the duchess's own magical ability and remain hidden themselves; a measure against the advisor and Rondart, I guess. They would provide no defense against an attack, magical or physical."

"Someone goes through the trouble to keep her hidden but doesn't care to keep her safe?" Ashura mused silently for a moment and then shook his head once. "Good job, Fai. I think Tomoyo will be very useful to us, but I can't risk trusting her just yet." Returning to his desk, he added, "Continue to search for information regarding the Duchess, and tell me at once if you find anything."

The Celesian stayed where he was, not daring to ask the question that was weighing on his mind. Ashura, sensing he was still there, looked up and guessed what he was thinking. "I have nothing to give you; your talents will not be required."

Disappointed and relieved at the same time, Fai bowed. "Very well, Your Lordship, as you say."

-

AN: I was looking over the rest of the story the other day and I was shocked and embarrassed by the typos and grammatical errors there (also, it seems I couldn't make up my mind how to spell "Yuko"). So, apologies for that and for any similar mistakes here. I tried to be more careful, but you never know. If you catch any stupid mistakes, feel free to point and laugh D

The usual apologies for lateness apply. But it _was_ a longish chapter (19 pages!). I was having a hell of a lot of fun and didn't really notice until I'd hit 4000 words and thought, "Hm. The chapter was supposed to be over by now? Oh well." I was debating cutting it in half, but I liked it better all together, and WildfireDreams assures me that you can never have too long a chapter...so here it is. And thank you for that, WildfireDreams!

Note about characters: Chun'yan here is based off the character from the manga "The Legend of Chun Hyang," which is also where her husband Mong Ryong comes from. I like her better there than I did in Tsubasa, altho it probably doesn't even matter or is even really noticeable...What can I say? I'm weird like that. And once again, I have displayed my inability to spell or to be consistent, so...um. Just bear with me. I'll figure out what the heck I'm doing with names. Someday. Maybe. Hopefully.

Anyways...review/comments/constructive criticism/all that jazz most welcome!


	6. One Hell of a Morning

He faced the usual assortment of problems that morning.

As always, there was the disorientation, the confusion – he wasn't sure, when he first woke up, where he was or how he'd gotten there. Even after all the time that he'd lived in this apartment (and he didn't know exactly how long that was), he woke up feeling misplaced.

The strangeness of the familiar surroundings made his heart race painfully, made him glance wildly around. At least, he was fairly certain it was just his morning confusion that made him so scared. On the bad mornings, he clung irrationally to the fear. On the good mornings, it was something to be dismissed and ignored.

This was one of the good mornings.

He splashed his face with water from the basin, his eyes avoiding the mirror for as long as they could before he felt silly. He met his own gaze, hoping (as he did every morning) that his worries would have been for nothing.

As always, he was disappointed. There was a shaky, awkward moment when he didn't recognize himself. The face in the mirror was one that seemed familiar, but only as a poor imitation of something else. The colors weren't quite right; the shape was a bit off...

But this was a good morning. He shook it off, muttering happily to himself that he must have had one hell of a dream last night.

On a bad morning, he would have stared into the mirror much longer, hunting for the source of his uneasiness, trying to find exactly what was wrong. Once, he had pried the mirror off the wall with his bare hands, shaking so badly he had nearly dropped it. That had been the worst day of all, the day he had been too scared to leave the apartment or even open the windows.

If someone were to ask him how the mirror's frame had gotten damaged, why it had been put up clumsily and crookedly, he would have said it had always been like that, and joked about getting what you pay for. He wouldn't have been lying, exactly – he would be telling the truth exactly as he remembered it.

Next came the feeling that he was wasting time, that he had to hurry to get something done before it was too late. He sat and thought for a minute, before realizing that he had to make breakfast. And because this was a _very_ good morning, he stopped worrying right then. Some days, he agonized over the feeling, certain there was something else, but unable to figure out what it was, and finally whatever explanation came to mind, just for the sake of getting something done.

This wasn't one of those days, though. This was a good morning, and that meant not remembering the bad mornings.

Mokona stepped out his door, whistling a happy tune and figuring out life as it happened to him.

-

Caldina opened the restaurant promptly at 8 o'clock, and only a few patrons had trickled in when _he_ entered. He didn't make a scene; he didn't even stand out, exactly. If she had been in the kitchens, he never would have come to her attention. But she was in the front today, checking up on her new waiters, and he _did_ catch her eye.

He was a stranger, which was hardly unusual in a city this size. He was alone, which _was_ odd – people didn't come to restaurants to eat by themselves, because that only reminded them of the fact that they were alone. He was attractive, Caldina had to admit, though he wasn't her type.

Even so, he wouldn't have been anything special. What made him stand out, in the bartender's mind, was that he matched the description Souma had given her of Ashura's merchant friend. She grinned, because it was important to make a good impression on new customers, but also because she sensed a chance to help an old friend.

One of the new employees was halfway to the door to greet him, but she got there first, grabbing a menu on her way.

"Hi! Welcome to Clover Bar and Dining. Table for one today, sir?"

"Yes, that would be fine," he smiled. "Unless you'd like to join me?"

'A flirt,' Tomoyo-sama had called him, and that certainly applied to this fellow. She hadn't heard enough of his melodic voice to tell if there was an accent, so she decided to play along. She laughed lightly and led him to a table in the corner, near Oruha's silent piano.

"So what can I get you?" she asked.

He glanced briefly at the menu as he slid into a chair. "Spicy omelette, bacon, and some company." Despite his tone, he met her eyes when he spoke, and Caldina's opinion of him crawled grudgingly upward. A lot of guys didn't both to keep their gaze that high.

Still, she wasn't going to let that distract her from either of her jobs, or detract form the suspicion she so carefully kept off her face. "I'll be right back," she promised, trying to sound charming. She was just too used to scolding, taunting, advising, threatening, and bargaining with the men who came into the bar. As she walked to the kitchen, she told herself she needed to get out more. _As if I have time for that_, she rolled her eyes.

"Chi, get me a spicy omelette and a side of bacon," she ordered the klutzy cook as she began to pour drinks.

"Hm? Caldina-san is taking orders?" the foreigner asked, her porcelain face twisting into the worried expression she got when she was confused. "I miss something?"

"No, Chi, you're fine," the manager assured her, and the girl's face brightened as she set to work.

_And speaking of men who don't know where to keep there eyes..._ Caldina thought, noticing one of her new waiters less-than-stealthily ogling Chi's curves. "Hideki!" she snapped her fingers in his face, and he jumped. "When the food is ready, bring it to my table. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said nervously.

Caldina smirked for a moment as she grabbed the drinks and left the kitchen. She walked back to the blond man's table, thinking of questions that wouldn't be too obvious, and how worried Souma had sounded when she told Caldina about the mysterious Celesian.

"Miss me?" she teased as she sat in the chair opposite him.

"A bit," he replied in the same tone, "But I see you've brought me something to ease the heartache." He gestured, indicating the glasses she carried over.

"On the house," she offered. "I wasn't sure what you drank, so I brought a selection." In that impossible way experienced waiters have, she had carried a cup of coffee, a glass of milk, a cup of hot chocolate, and a glass of orange juice at the same time, without any apparent effort. She now placed them in the middle of the table.

The blond helped himself to the orange juice and pushed the hot chocolate closer towards her. "I think you should have the sweets," he told her.

"Thanks," she took a small sip, grateful he was being cute and had not given her the coffee – that stuff upset her stomach.

He looked a bit more serious and glanced quickly around. "Is it alright if you sit with me? Your boss won't mind?"

She thought it would be rude to laugh in his face, but she couldn't stop herself from smiling. "No, she won't mind," she answered truthfully. "This is fine."

"Good." The seriousness was gone. "I wouldn't want to get you into any trouble." His eyes twinkled at the last word, as though that were exactly what he wanted.

"Alright, troublesome stranger," Caldina asked, eying him over the rim of her mug. "Do you have a name, or shall I just keep thinking of you as 'the flirt?'"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, my name is Fai, but you can think of me as whatever you'd like."

"Fair enough. Better stay on my good side, though, or who knows what I'll call you?"

"Hm, good point," Fai mused. "So how do I stay on your good side, then?"

"Well, you can tell me I'm right in thinking that's a Celesian accent you've got there."

"Hyuu, you have a good ear! Most people can't tell where it's from." He seemed genuinely impressed.

_I had some help_, she thought, but more loudly she was cheering, _It _is_ him!_

"The head chef here is from Celes," she explained. "Mind if I ask what brings you so far from home?"

His eyes became distant for a second, but Caldina, ever the skeptic, suspected that it was an act that she was meant to notice. "Celes hasn't really been my home for a while," he said quietly, thinking out loud.

Hideki came then, with the food and a respectful nod to Caldina, who was thinking of ways to inconspicuously steer the conversation. Unfortunately, she wasn't really sure which way she wanted to steer it, so she went with something general. "Sounds like a good choice to me. I hear it's freezing out there."

"Oh, I guarantee that it's _much_ colder than you've heard," Fai laughed, seemingly back to normal.

"So is Nihon your home now?" Caldina inquired, fluttering her eyelashes and feeling silly. "I haven't seen you around before."

"This is my first time here in years," Fai answered, shaking his head. "The place sure has changed!" What could have been a dangerous statement was made more innocent when he added, "This fine establishment did not exist last time I was here, for one thing, and the port is much busier than it used to be. Very good news for a merchant."

"You a merchant, then?" Caldina asked, as though she hadn't known this already.

"Yeah, I'm here on business."

"Here long?"

"Maybe. I'm in the middle of a delicate transaction – "

_I'll bet you are,_ Caldina thought smugly.

" – and it all really depends on how that turns out," he said lightly, then paused to eat a bit of his omelette. "Would you like some? This is really good."

"Sure," replied Caldina, for whom the words 'lunch break' had no meaning. She reached over, grabbed a slice of bacon, and quickly scarfed it. _Hm,_ she thought in retrospect, _That probably doesn't fit with the 'dainty girl' persona._

Fai raised an eyebrow, as if he could read her thoughts, and shook his head slightly. _Well, I don't think he was buying it anyway. Time to change tactics._ She chewed and waited for him to continue.

Fai turned to stare out the window. "In any case, I need to find a place to stay while I'm here."

Caldina could almost hear the wonderful sound of coins clanking, and for a moment, all other concerns were small and insignificant. "I recommend the Kudan Inn," she said, no longer bothering with pretense. "Good lodgings, cheap rates, just a few streets up from here."

As soon as she's spoken, she wondered if she shouldn't have. _Oh well_, she sighed. Strangers might be spies, but business was business, and Masayoshi gave her a kickback for every guest she referred to the Kudan Inn. It was too late to take back those words, and she rationalized that this way it would be easier to keep a close watch on the merchant.

Anyway, no one had noticed anything odd about the assistant manager yet, so maybe Fai wouldn't either.

"I wouldn't want to insult you by not taking your advice." Fai interrupted her musings.

He was up to something, Caldina _knew _it. However, he seemed to know that she was up to something as well, and was not inclined to reveal anything that would satisfy her curiosity. The problem was, while she could keep a secret better than almost anyone she knew, she was no good at ferreting them out of people. She'd never needed to be. People just _told_ her things. She was, first and foremost, a bartender, and it was in her personality as well as her job description to listen carefully, impartially, and patiently, and to then keep her mouth shut about it.

Which was, after all, how she had gotten into this miss – even revolutionaries need confidants. She hadn't asked for anything more than to be left alone to run her own business and live her own life. But now that she was involved, well, she might as well do what she could.

Unfortunately, the blond man seemed much more skilled at guarding secrets than she was at uncovering them, and though their conversation continued for close to an hour, Caldina learned nothing worth reporting back to Souma.

Fai stood, leaving some bills on the table, and gave her a look that said, in a friendly, polite way, _I know everything about you._

Fai's voice merely said, "It was nice meeting you, Caldina-san. I hope I'll see you again."

He was as charming and pleasant as ever, but she shivered, because she had never told him her name.

For a few seconds after he walked out the door, she stared after him. Still, it wasn't in her nature to worry about things past, not when the restaurant was filled with paying customers.

Hideki was wasting time joking with another waiter, which would never do. "Hideki! Get over to table ten and take their order, now!" She nodded with satisfaction when he gulped and tripped over his own feet in his rush to obey.

Life went on. Whatever else happened, that was always Caldina's philosophy. Life went on.

-

Kurogane had started the day in a bad mood, and things went downhill from there.

There had been some investigation, and the police had blocked off several streets. This meant he'd had to go way out of his way to get to the practice grounds. He'd been very late, something he couldn't stand, and a number of his sparring partners were absent entirely. As a result, he had cut practice very short, and most of that time had been wasted sparring with an amateur – Kobayashi, or something. A fool who didn't know better than to challenge someone with years more experience. He had learned his lesson and suffered an embarrassing defeat, but it had cost Kurogane a decent workout, and he returned to his apartment – after another long detour – grumbling.

He was a little surprised to see that Syaoran was up, dressed, and coherent – apparently he was taking this job hunting seriously. He was also greatly surprised and more than a little ticked off to discover Mokona's presence. He fumed, but Syaoran interfered before he could physically kick the intrusive neighbor out.

"Kurogane, please," Syaoran apologized, explained, and implored at the same time. "Mokona-san brought me breakfast, and he'd going to help me try to find a job..."

Kurogane's impatience cooled momentarily as he tried to remember if Mokona had ever _once_ mentioned a job, or given any other indication that he had one. Still, the man didn't let himself get distracted from the principle of the thing; namely, that annoying him in his own home was a crime, or at least should be.

"Get off the damn table," he growled.

Mokona tilted his head, pretending not to understand. "But I like sitting here," he protested.

"And I don't like having your ass there! That's where I eat, idiot!"

Syaoran intervened once more, pulling Mokona off the table and gulping as he asked, "Kurogane-san, would you like some breakfast?"

His roommate shook his head, no longer glaring at the intruder with his intense red eyes. "No. I'm going to be late already."

"Well, at least take something to eat on the way," the boy suggested.

Kurogane breathed in and out slowly. There really was no point in going hungry just because he was irritated, and he didn't want to upset the kid, so he grabbed a manjuu bun before rushing out the door.

The day was just beginning, and the servant could tell it was going to be a horrible one. He clenched his fists and hoped to catch a break. And, of course, things got worse – he ran into the person who always pissed him off.

"Oh, Kurogane, how fortunate that I caught you."

Kurogane choked on his breakfast. Those silky tones could only have come from one person's mouth. "You," he snapped, turning around to spot the witch. "Talk."

Yuko raised an eyebrow. "Well, that was what I came for, but I must admit, I'm surprised you actually want to have a conversation with me. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"You have a lot to explain."

The witch paused to light a cigarette. She didn't have any matches, but that didn't seem to matter much. "And I will," she drawled, "In my own time."

"No. Now. What did you mean about protecting the ruler?"

Yuko rolled her eyes. "Really, Black Wolf, you could learn a little patience. You'd be amazed at the difference it can make."

Unfortunately for the person who interrupted their conversation, Kurogane was furious and didn't appreciate being tapped on the shoulder.

Unfortunately for Kurogane, that person was an officer in the City Guard.

"What the hell do you want?" Kurogane demanded, before realizing who he was talking to.

_Whatever. Can't stand those guys anyway._

The guard looked surprised for a minute, but his expression quickly changed to an unpleasant dislike. "Watch your tongue, civilian," the guard sneered, in the tone of one who is going to have the upper hand sometime in the near future and is thinking of ways to abuse the privilege. "ID, now."

Kurogane was angry, but he wasn't stupid. He gritted his teeth and fished out his identification papers from his wallet. The guard snatched them from his hand and glared at them. _The idiot probably can't even read properly_, he glowered. It irked him to think that his family member's names, his military record, his current occupation, everything about him (or at least, everything the government knew), was on display for any trained thug or corrupt official to read.

This particular guard seemed to have read enough. He folded up the papers and stuck them in a pocket. _Bad sign_. "You're coming with me. Gonna ask you some questions."

_By which you mean, 'I'm going to get some friends of mine and beat the shit out of you, because I'm a sadistic coward,'_ Kurogane thought, detached. He was angry enough that all he was left with was a sort of cold, calculating state of mind. "You have no reason to interrogate me."

"I'll find one," the guard promised nastily.

"Now boys, let's not be so silly!" Yuko said cheerfully, clapping her hands together. She smiled broadly when she saw identical looks of impatience, confusion, and disbelief on the two very different faces. "You aren't going to detain Wolfie-boy, and you aren't going to report him."

The guard blinked slowly and opened his mouth. No words came out, and eventually he shut it again.

"Ex-cell-ent," Yuko said, drawing out the word for a few extra syllables. "If you'll just give Kurogane his papers back..."

The man scrambled to obey, holding them out with a rather glazed expression on his face. Their owner snatched them back.

"And we'll be on our way," Yuko finished. "A good day to you, then." She turned and strode off, Kurogane following her after a contemptuous glance at the guard.

"What did you do to him?" he asked when they were a few streets away.

"Nothing he'll remember," she answered vaguely. "I don't have the time right now to let you be imprisoned, as amusing as that might be."

Kurogane snorted. "If you have something important to do, don't let me keep you."

Yuko laughed loudly. "I always have time for you, Kurogane," she commented, sounding eerily predatory. "And talking to you is one of the important things I have to do today."

"Either answer my questions or leave."

"That's a bit harsh, considering how I helped you out just now."

He paused, because much as he disliked the thought, he owed her. "Thank you."

"There, that wasn't so difficult, was it?" Yuko replied brightly.

No answer this time.

"Since I know how you like to get right to the heart of matters, I'll spare you any further delay. I came to talk to you about Tomoyo."

"What about her?"

"Surely you wonder why I asked her to hire you?"

"Because you thought it'd be 'amusing?'"

"Now, there's no need to be sarcastic."

"I wasn't."

"Then don't be ridiculous. This is much too important. You don't really think I'd play games with...people's lives, do you?"

Had he imagined it, or had there been a slight pause? No way to be sure, and it really shouldn't matter, but the way she'd said it nearly made his skin crawl.

She continued with a slight smirk. "She is a good friend of mine, Kurogane, in addition to being a very important person, and I want you to make sure nothing bad happens to her."

"I'm supposed to protect her? From what?"

"Use your imagination. I mention this because I'm afraid you aren't doing a good job."

"Nothing's happened to her."

"Yet. I'm worried that when something does happen, you won't be there."

Realization dawned, accompanied by a quiet horror. "No. I'm not turning my life upside-down for some noble. Not again."

"Just yesterday you told me that protecting the ruler was different." Before he could point out that Tomoyo was not the ruler, she scolded him, "Think about that. Oh, and try to be a little more positive, hm?"

And she was gone, leaving Kurogane to walk the rest of the way in silent fury.

-

The assistant manager at the Kudan Inn was working the desk that morning. He had checked in a few guests, sorted out a crisis with the cleaning crew, and finally arranged a contract with some builders to repair the roof.

He'd learned to appreciate every quiet, normal moment he could, so he was smiling when the bell announced the arrival of a new guest.

He looked up, and the smile froze when he was who had entered.

"Why did you have to come here?" he demanded.

Yuko tilted her head in thoughtful amusement. "My, my, why does everyone have that reaction?"

-

AN: Once again, I've done my best with Caldina. I remember next to nothing about Magic Knight Rayearth - I read it in seventh grade, and have a _horrible_ memory - so I'm basing her character off the impression I got from her in Tsubasa, which is a sort of gossipy, practical minded workaholic. Not really sure how that worked out, but she isn't that important a character, so I'm not gonna stress over it.

Got this up later than intended, so apologies for that. Writing this chapter was an odd experience. Usually I write big chunks at a time, but _this_ I worked on for five minutes, then stopped, then went back to for two minutes, etc. I suppose I should have expected that would happen when I tried to write during lunch and dead-time in my classes. That was _not_ very productive, because I got interrupted every two seconds with questions. ("what are you writing?" Nothing now, thanks a lot. Same thing happens whenever I try to read a book at school.) I finished it this morning when I was waiting for my parents to come home. Guess that was the silver lining to getting locked out of my house. Stupid doorknob. . 

Anyway, some new issues coming up here, so I hope that you found it interesting! Reviews and any feedback or advice would be most awesome. May your December be filled with all sorts of (your holiday of choice) cheer!


	7. The Importance of Listening

The assistant manager didn't find the situation as amusing as the witch did. "Please, just go away!" he moaned, waving his arms toward the door. Yuko paid no attention to this and stalked closer toward him.

"That's hardly the polite reaction I'd come to expect from you, Wa – "

"This isn't a joke! This is very serious! Please, miss, I don't need any trouble in my life right now."

"Why would you say that?" Yuko placed her hands on her hips.

"Because you always mean trouble!"

"Where would you get an idea like that?"

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Where do you think?"

"Hm! If you former master used to talk about me like that behind my back, he was even more insolent than I thought." She frowned, and the man hastened to try and improve her mood, remembering the occasion he had seen her angry.

"No - he never said anything like that - _exactly_, but you did have a way of showing up just before things got bad. Right up until – " He realized he should have planned his words more carefully before he spoke.

"Right up until his death?" Yuko finished sweetly, reaching out a hand to touch the man's shoulder, and he shut his eyes, thinking he was really in trouble now. "Let me clarify things for you – I was not responsible for his death."

"Not directly, of course not, no," the assistant manager babbled. "But if you hadn't gotten him mixed up in that whole mess in the first place he'd still be alive."

"Would he?" Yuko asked, her eyes distant. "He might have been run over by a car the next day, or killed by a madman, or felled by a fatal disease. If it was his time to die, he would have died no matter what I had done."

"See, that's another thing," the man continued, scrambling to reclaim his mental foothold. "You're always on about this 'hitzusen' stuff. I just don't buy it."

"You don't? Why doesn't that surprise me?" Yuko removed her hand from the man's shoulder, much to his relief, and made a dismissive gesture. "That is not the primary issue at the moment, though I'm sure we'll return to it at another time. I will repeat myself for one last time – _I was not responsible for the death of Clow Reed._ You and I both know that Fei Wong was behind that – " the man looked around desperately, but there seemed to be no one who could have heard that treasonous, though true, statement. " – Oh relax, no one can hear us. I've made quite sure of that – where was I? Clow would have gotten into 'that mess' even without me. My involvement merely served to make sure that things did not turn out as badly as they could have."

He stared for a moment. "How could things have gone worse?" he gasped. "They all died, or most of them did, and they didn't accomplish anything."

"They didn't?" the witch raised an eyebrow. "That's news to me."

"I don't suppose you're going to explain that to me," he sighed.

"Nope!" she answered cheerfully. "Or, not at the moment. You need to do something for me first." Before he could grumble that _of course_ there was something she wanted him to do, she snapped her fingers directly in front of his face, startling him and making him stumble back so quickly his glasses nearly fell off. "Some friends of mine need your assistance."

"Why me?" he said, almost keeping the whiny tone out of his voice.

"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your attention that there are precious few magic users left in Japan, especially not in the city of Nihon."

"Yes, and it's a real shame, but if you make me do something stupid and I get killed, there will be even fewer. We're an endangered species, and you're supposed to protect those, not throw them into the line of fire."

Yuko laughed. "You're rather adorable when you get upset. Just like a big spoiled child."

"Gah! Don't you ever listen to anything anyone says?" he threw his hands in the air, irritation overruling fear-induced respect.

"Oh, I listen to everything. I just don't bother responding to it," she replied coolly.

He turned and banged his head into the nearest wall. "I'm just doing my best to get by. I don't ask for anything special," he said to no one in particular. "I'm not even such a bad person, really. What did I ever do to deserve this woman's meddling interference?"

"Got yourself apprenticed to Clow, for one thing," Yuko said.

"Yes, that," he grumbled. "I was just an orphan with some magic ability who thought that I was lucky to get an apprenticeship with such a talented and well-respected magician. I didn't realize that I was getting thrust into the middle of political scheming and assassinations and wild accusations! Which _I think_ is where youare trying to put me back, so please understand if I'm less than enthusiastic about seeing you again after three years."

Yuko watched him in apparent fascination until he paused to breath, then raised an eyebrow. "Are you finished?"

He nodded, not quite trusting his voice enough to speak.

"Good. I do not, in fact, want to get you involved with, as you put it, 'political scheming and assassinations and wild accusations.'" He looked relieved, and she savored the moment, wondering exactly how horrified he would look when she told him what she was really planning. She lit a cigarette and decided she'd gotten his hopes up for long enough. "I want to get you involved in a revolution."

She wasn't disappointed. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he sputtered incoherently.

She smirked. "There's a difference, really."

"Not to me! They both end with me being killed."

She narrowed her eyes. "Who's to say that the other scenario doesn't?"

He paled. "Are you threatening me?"

"No."

"Blackmail?"

"Nothing so crude," she sighed. "I was merely attempting to appeal to your sense of civic duty."

"I lost that they day they killed Clow Reed."

"I was afraid you might say something like that."

"Then why come here? Why waste your time?"

"Watanuki," she said sternly, and he didn't even bother to object to her saying his real name. If anyone could hear them, he was already a dead man. "I never waste my time."

"Well, you are now," he replied stubbornly. "I'm not getting involved in your revolution."

"It's not my revolution, you know." She exhaled extravagantly.

He waved the smoke away, coughing. "Oh, that makes it better, does it?"

"I don't suppose a revolution belongs to anyone, except maybe the people, so it is most definitely not mine," she mused. "If you were to say it was someone's, you could call it Tomoyo's."

He paused at the vaguely familiar name. "Tomoyo...Tomoyo-sama? The Duke's sister?"

"The Duchess of Edo, yes. I didn't realize you knew her."

"I don't, but I met the Duke once...the former Duke, I should say."

"Ah, yes. Clow used to have so many visitors, so many friends at court. Funny how fortune can change so quickly."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why exactly are you here again?"

She didn't answer right away, but took a few drags on her cigarette and walked around the inn's reception area. "This is a rather nice place," she commented, sounding sincere. "Tell me, Watanuki, are you happy here?"

He stared at her, thrown off by the unexpected query. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know. Are you happy with your current life?"

"Yes."

"Be honest, Watanuki. _Are you happy?_"

He turned around, too exasperated to look at her any longer. "I don't know! What's happy? Who the hell could be happy in this city? How can you ask me if I'm happy when I have to spend every moment lying to people, terrified someone will recognize me, or that the army will drag me away in the middle of the night, that I'll never be seen again and no one will dare to say anything about it? When I have to watch innocent people being disappeared and not say anything about it in case I'm next?"

The witch nodded with grim satisfaction. "In that case, I'm here to tell you a story. About what really happened that night at the palace, the night Fujitaka died and those mercenaries were accused of treason..."

-

Kurogane was late, and he wasn't the only one annoyed by this. "Hey! You're late!"

He had barely entered through the servants' door when the voice rang out, making him stop in his tracks and breath deeply once or twice to keep control of his temper. It had very nearly gotten him in trouble once today; he didn't really need the problems it would cause if he lost it again now. "Sorry. Some guards stopped me."

Shogo's frown lessened, slightly. Kurogane was thankful that at least he was a reasonable man. In fact, if they had met under different circumstances – in the army, or at a pub – they might have gotten along well enough. As it was, though, Shogo was the butler, and it was his duty to control the other servants. Kurogane disliked taking orders from someone who had given him no reason to respect him and just expected him to do it because he said so; Shogo had problems with Kurogane's lack of experience in the domestic world and his abrasive attitude. Still, he could hardly fault the man for having been stopped by the city guard, who seemed to be taking more advantage of their power every day.

"Try a little harder to be on time tomorrow, alright?" he said reproachfully, straightening his jacket. "We have a job to do, and we aren't going to be on time at this rate. Out back," he commanded, and Kurogane followed him through the servants' wing of the mansion and out toward the stables.

The car, being a rather expensive luxury, was used only on those occasions when the duchess was traveling somewhere. On other trips, like this one, they used horse-drawn carts or carriages. Kurogane had no problem with that. He rather liked horses, and had spent a lot of time fighting in various cavalry units. He preferred them, even with their quirks, to the strange and unnatural vehicles of privilege that the nobles rode around in.

Shogo whispered a few words into the ears of a stable boy, who helped Kurogane hook up two horses to a rather large cart. When all was ready, he and the mercenary jumped into the front of the cart. Kurogane took the reins. "Where to?"

"Arashi's," the butler answered, naming a merchant who often supplied the duchess' mansion with the things it needed to run, as well as the occasional piece of art or fine silk for Tomoyo herself.

Kurogane nodded and drove the cart in silence for the short trip. He would have hated to admit it, but he enjoy the quiet moments that this job provided him with. There was something simple but good about steering the horses, about having the time to think. Of course, in that time he often thought about what displeased him with his new life, but nothing was perfect. It was, at least, a steady and reliable source of work that was not completely repugnant; something that could no longer be said for the mercenary world.

They soon reached the merchant's shop, a large and busy place that nevertheless had the charm of a small, personal business. He steered the cart down an alley to the back, near the large storage rooms. A couple of employees were loitering near several large crates sharing a cigarette. "You from the Duchess' place?" one of them asked, dropping the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"Yes. Are these our crates?"

The other man nodded, but held out his hand. "Need some proof of identification, sir."

Shogo nodded and reached into his jacket, pulling a slim wallet from his inner pocket. He opened it, revealing a card with his picture, name, position, and the duchess' personal seal. The men stared at it closely for just a second, then jerked their heads toward the cart. "You need some help moving these?" the first one asked.

"No, thank you. Back to your stations," Shogo answered smoothly. They shrugged and returned inside. The butler rolled up his sleeves. "Let's get to it," he said to Kurogane.

The mercenary nodded and jumped out of the cart, securing the horses to a post nearby. When he turned back to Shogo, he saw the man opening one of the crates and peering inside it. "What are you doing?" he asked shortly, not caring much for protocol.

The butler gave him a look, but answered his question anyway. "Checking that this is the correct shipment."

It made sense, so Kurogane nodded and went to help before something made him stop inches away from his destination. Shogo glared at him but didn't have a chance to speak first. "Do you always do that?"

"I do," Shogo answered. "Last week the boy that came to fetch them didn't, and brought back the wrong crates."

"He probably didn't check regularly. Probably no one but you does." Kurogane stared down. "What should be here?"

Shogo stood up straight and spoke in the tone of voice he used just before issuing a reprimand. "Food, mostly. Some basic medical supplies. Sometimes there are personal items for Her Grace."

"Including this month?" Kurogane asked, matching the butler's tone.

He pulled a list from his inner pocket and glanced at it briefly. "Yes. It should be that one," he pointed. Replacing the list, he moved to the crate he had indicated. "Now if you're done with this foolishness, get back to work."

"Not so fast," Kurogane shouted. He couldn't have said, if someone had asked him, what had made him so suspicious. Perhaps it was just his bad mood, or his conversation with Yuko. Whatever it was, he hadn't lived this long in _this _city by ignoring his instincts when they were screaming at him this loudly.

His instincts did no good for the butler. "Knock it off, Kurogane-san," Shogo snapped, pulling the lid off the crate. Perhaps he would have had something more to say, but the mercenary never found out. There was a loud explosion, and the world turned to light.

People in the shop and on the street were screaming and running around. A few – including the shop owner, Arashi Arisugawa – ran toward the sound, while most ran away. The brave or foolish ones who had gone to investigate had to jump quickly to avoid being run over by a cart pulled by two panicking horses. After a close miss, they peered around the corner with rather more care.

Fire was burning the alley out back, consuming the crates that had stood there and beginning to devour the back wall of the shop itself. Arashi gave orders to one of her employees to send a messenger to the fire department and to another to evacuate the store and its storage rooms. Then she walked closer to the fire and stopped, standing next to the soot-blackened figure who was bent over double, coughing up ash and smoke.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"The damn idiot – didn't listen – told him to stop – " the man coughed.

"Who...?"

"Shogo – dead now."

The woman nodded stoically. "Come this way, sir. You need something to drink."

He stared at her, his wide eyes standing out starkly against his dirty face. "You are?"

"Arashi Arisugawa. You are one of Tomoyo-san's men?"

He nodded, because that was easier than speaking. She turned to walk out the alley, and after a moment of respectful silence for the dead man, he followed.

-

AN: Merry Christmas, all! Or whatever salutations you would prefer, if that one does not suit you. Lately I've been feeling a bit under the weather, but I love this holiday entirely too much to let that keep me down for long. Also, just saw Sweeney Todd, which is _fabulous_ if you haven't seen it yet. Go. Now. It makes up for how Golden Compass was such a horrendously awful film. Don't see that. Read the book. It's one of my favorites.

So. Some good stuff in this chapter, I think. I'm kind of excited about getting Watanuki mixed into all of this. Seriously, one of the things I love about xxxHolic is getting to watch Watanuki and Yuko interact, so that scene was a lot of fun to write. More on them in the next chapter. And, we have our first body in the story! Yay! (Yeah, that's kind of sick, but as I said, I just saw Sweeney Todd – kind of in a sick, twisted, dark mood, hah). Next chapter, the aftermath of the explosion and more background info. Good stuff. See you in the next year!


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